Things you do not wish to
by Shade-Duelist
Summary: The story of two scientists that get close to one another while humankind struggles to survive. How will their lives unfold and will their feelings get the better of them? rated T for chapters 2 and 14. Review please.
1. See

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, I don't even think I want to. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

1) See.

It was a busy day at the UN Headquarters in New York, busier than ever: it was the day of judgement for many present. All of the ten thousand prominent men and women had sent in their application forms in order to be chosen to go on the well-known mission to Alpha Centauri, the star nearest Sol. It was a colonizing mission: scientists had found out that Chiron, AC's prime planet, was similar in environment to Earth and thus habitable. Despite the dangers that were sure to be attached to the mission, many had sent in their application form. Earth no longer was a desirable place to live in the year 2060.

Among the many was professor Prokhor L. Zakharov, one of the world's most known and respected scientists. Next to him sat one of his colleagues of the Free University of Belarus, Youri Beslin. They were both hoping for a place aboard the spacecraft that would bring them to Chiron: Zakharov as a physicist and chemist, Beslin as an informatics specialist and programmer. They were talking to each other about the mission: or rather, Beslin was having a long monologue about the mission and its several advantages. Zakharov pretended to listen, but in the meanwhile looked over the crowd to see if there was anyone he knew. His eyes fell on a few older men - all professors in something or other that he'd met at congresses - until they rested on a quite familiar figure not too far away. Zakharov jumped. He knew that girl that had her arms thrown around a young boy's shoulders. Beslin had stopped in the meanwhile, noticing that he had lost his listener's attention somehow, and turned to look at the girl too: he gasped audibly.

"Do you know her, Youri?"

"Yes, yes, of course! That, my friend, is none other than Deirdre Skye, the daughter of Alexander Skye - you must know him. Maybe she's come to hear if her father has a place aboard the 'Unity'..." Beslin trailed away as he saw someone pass Deirdre: the boy she was with poked out his tongue.

"Right, Sean, what's he doing here anyway... monopolist... pollutor pig..." Zakharov chuckled: never before had he heard an accent that appealing.

"She's Scottish, as is her father.", Beslin clarified. "She's pretty young, too, to have a reputation like hers in the academic field." The old scientist added, after seeing Zakharov raise an eyebrow in surprise: "She is said to be even better than her father. She is said to do wonders with plants, and make them do wonders, too..." Again, his voice trailed away.

"Who was it that passed her then?"

"Oh, that was Nwabudike Morgan, CEO of almost every multinational on this planet. I wouldn't be surprised if he was chosen to go along: he has enough money to buy himself in twenty times..."

"But why...?", Zakharov started, but was cut short by the voice of the president of the UN.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your enthusiasm and your applications. We have carefully deliberated on every appointment and made sure to select a balanced team for this mission.

We will appoint as the captain of this mission... John Garland of NASA." The speech was punctured by applause as Garland was hugged by his colleagues and wished the best. "As general coordinator of the scientific team, we will appoint professor Prokhor Zakharov of the Free University of Belarus." Zakharov couldn't believe his ears: he was only vaguely aware of the congratulations of the people around him, but came back to his senses when Beslin gave him a pat on the shoulders.

"Well done, Prokhor, well done..."

"Operating under supervision of professor Zakharov will be three teams: a team of engineers led by Nwabudike Morgan, a team of defensive development research led by Corazón Santiago, and a team of ecologists and bio-engineers led by doctor Deirdre Skye. Further, for the safety of this mission, a detachment of marines is sent along, led by Sheng-ji Yang, and we will be accompanied by an expert in ethics and behavioural psychology, sister Miriam Godwinson. Lastly, to ensure that the UN charter for this mission is followed strictly, vice-president Pravin Lal of the UN will go along on this mission. That concludes the openings for this mission: the applications for next mission can be sent in starting tomorrow and the team for that mission will be picked in a month. If those selected for this mission will come to the stage, they may follow me to be briefed. Thank you, all, and a very good day."

Zakharov saw from the corner of his eye a rather elderly-looking woman throw her arms around Deirdre and cry: meanwhile he was being ushered out of his chair by Beslin, who was still congratulating him.

"...as for me, I'm hoping that maybe next mission... But you go now, they'll be waiting for you." Indeed, at the stage, the group was waiting - he was the only one that was still hanging around in the hall.

"I hope you can come along in the next mission, my friend - Youri. Now, I should go and hear what they have to say. I will see you later, I expect." With those words, he stepped in the direction of the stage.

"Ah, and here is the man who will make our mission a scientific success. Ladies and gentlemen, meet professor Zakharov. Professor, these are.." He was introduced to the others who would be going on the mission. He knew Yang, who was one of the men he had looked at earlier - now he could place the man as a political expert and a man of a high function in the new Asian world. Miriam he very much doubted to be what she gave out to be - she looked too zealous to be an etiologist. Corazon, the one in charge of defensive technology, gave him a firm handshake - too firm for a woman, yet her soft hands showed that she was only that. Morgan didn't look the least bit impressed with him. Pravin Lal was amiable enough, but the man lacked backbone in Zakharov's opinion. And then there was Deirdre, who looked so profoundly shaken that she didn't even notice him extend his hand. Lastly, he saw the captain.

"The name's John Garland, professor, but you can call me Jay." The man had a heavy American accent, one that amused Zakharov. He nodded as they started walking to a meeting room.

"Prokhor Zakharov, but you may call me Prokhor... Jay."

"I can already tell that we'll get along fine. As for them..." The tall man sighed. "I dunno. They look like the most crazy-picked bunch to me. Though those two younger women look like nice-type chicks to me..." Zakharov followed his gaze. He had noticed the skin-tight dress Santiago wore earlier but had paid it no heed: as for Deirdre, she had obviously not bothered to dress formal since she wore some tight blue jeans and a T-shirt that was too small. Zakharov swallowed, a blush quickly spreading over his pale face. He didn't know how to react on the effect of seeing just how feminine these women were.

"I wouldn't judge them on that.", he said drily, his blush gone again.

"Oh, no, now don't get me wrong," John said quickly, "I'd never judge the two doctors on their looks - though they sure are lookers... I know for a fact that they're both idealists. Santiago there...", he pointed to the Hispanic beauty, "has got a Ph.D. in ballistics but also a black belt in karate and about a dozen different rifles in her house. And miss Skye is as much an ecologist as a member of Greenpeace and the WWF. But she's a bit too slender for my taste anyway. I like a woman whose curves are nicely filled out - like Santiago."

"I don't know... I think I'd like miss Skye most..." It was said before he knew it. He blushed again, this time longer: what _was_ it with him! "...But I'm not one to judge."

"No, leave that to our big CEO over there.", the captain remarked. "Hasn't taken his eyes off those two for a second. ...Ah, I think this is where we'll be briefed!", he said quickly as he saw Zakharov's features darken. "Shush now, don't wanna miss a word of what they say, now wouldya?"

"Ladies and gentlemen... and captain Garland," said the woman in front of them, which earned her a playful scowl from said captain, "I'm here to introduce you to the starship that you'll be travelling on. It has been worked on for years by many scientists across the world - and now it is finished. It's called the USS Unity." She pushed a button on a screen and a screen flashed on, showing them an image of a grand spaceship, gleaming in the sunlight. "It has room for up to a thousand passengers - though only three hundred of them will remain awake once the ship has passed Jupiter. It also holds a large area that will be devoted to scientific research - both the necessary variety and the superfluous one that most undoubtedly will have its uses. But this is mostly an introduction, so I'll spare you the details.

There are things required of you. First of all, you must make sure you take with you your own supplies for research and such. That means that you'll have to ask your employers to give you the necessary. The four universities will not have any problem with this, but of some I am more uncertain. Also, you are required to bring along your own staff. It has been proven to give the best results. And lastly... you will be put in cryostatic sleep once the ship exits the solar system. Is there anyone who has a special kind of heart disease or metabolism dysfunction that prevents him or her from going in cryostasis for longer than a month?" The woman paused and surveyed the gathered company: when no one spoke, she continued: "Along these requirements there are also certain liberties you have. Firstly, you may take with you - if you wish this - a family member or other close relative. Among those are also counted long-term relationship partners and fiancés. Also, you may bring one superfluous item with you as a luxury item. The ship has minimal comfort and I can imagine that you couldn't live without, say, a portable video player or a CD-player.

One last comment. If you bring your beloved with you, make sure he or she knows that interfering with your work is out of the question. You have your responsibilities, live accordingly.

Then, for the practical side of the mission. We leave in two weeks: make sure you are ready by then. You will all be accommodated in the complex surrounding the base from which the space vessel will leave: I imagine you can handle your affairs from there as well as from your home. You will now be brought to the complex and showed your quarters. I wish you all a good day." With that, the woman was gone and they began to rise.

"Welcome to 'Life the Hard Way'...", Garland said to Zakharov as the two walked out of the meeting room.

* * *

It was already bustling in the halls of the UN Headquarters when Deirdre Skye stepped in with her brother Sean and her mother. Her father was at home, still working on some of his articles that were due next week. She loved her father, he was the one that had shown her the miracles of nature when she was a child - those miracles were now the ones she made. She smiled. Her father had made her hand in an application form, telling her in little words that he wished nothing more than for her to go on that mission and get away from the misery of Earth as soon as possible.

"You're young, girl, and talented. They'll need someone like you more than they could use someone like me. You're my hope, more so because you've achieved everything I have at your age - and more..."

She looked around while leaning a bit on her younger brother, a bit uneasy, and noticed a few professors she had seen or heard of. She smiled as she noticed a few women around as well, easily noticeable in the sea of dark suits: she recognised doctor Santiago, who she knew had achieved monumental breakthroughs in mining technology with explosion mechanics and such. But of the men, only two distinguished themselves from the uniform masses: both did not wear a suit, but a simple outfit with a trademark white lab coat. Deirdre recognised Professor Zakharov, who was said to be an expert in anything physics and one of the greatest minds in the world since Einstein. She sighed. Of course, _he_ would be chosen to go, but if _she_ would be? She smiled as a few words spoken by the professor and his friend drifted her way: the man's name was no subtle indication of where he was born, but she had always found accents funny - and the professor had an accent that was too clear to be hidden behind his perfect English.

It was then that Morgan passed her and looked at her briefly before continuing. Sean poked out his tongue to the towering businessman, and Deirdre nodded.

"Right, Sean, what's he doing here anyway... monopolist... pollutor pig..."

"He does seem to fit the titles rather nicely." The man on her right was glaring daggers at the tall African as well. "The name's Garland, John Garland. But a lovely lady like yourself may call me Jay."

"Deirdre Skye. And of course you can call me Deirdre. It would seem out of place for you to call me 'miss' or 'doctor'." Just as she felt an interesting conversation had come up, the president of the UN spoke and Jay rejoined his colleagues a bit further ahead of Deirdre.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your enthusiasm and your applications. We have carefully deliberated on every appointment and made sure to select a balanced team for this mission.

We will appoint as the captain of this mission... John Garland of NASA." Deirdre smiled. She saw his colleagues congratulate him and silently did so as well. The president continued. "As general coordinator of the scientific team, we will appoint professor Prokhor Zakharov of the Free University of Belarus. Operating under supervision of professor Zakharov will be three teams: a team of engineers led by Nwabudike Morgan, a team of defensive development research led by Corazón Santiago, and a team of ecologists and bio-engineers led by doctor Deirdre Skye." Deirdre could not believe her ears. Had she, who was regarded by her father's colleagues as just a girl, really gotten a place on the colonization mission? She felt the arms and congratulations of her brother and mother surround her, through which the rest of the speech sounded faint.

"Further, for the safety of this mission, a detachment of marines is sent along, led by Sheng-ji Yang, and we will be accompanied by an expert in ethics and behavioural psychology, sister Miriam Godwinson. Lastly, to ensure that the UN charter for this mission is followed strictly, vice-president Pravin Lal of the UN will go along on this mission. That concludes the openings for this mission: the applications for next mission can be sent in starting tomorrow and the team for that mission will be picked in a month. If those selected for this mission will come to the stage, they may follow me to be briefed. Thank you, all, and a very good day." Deirdre detached herself slowly from the arms of her mother and brother.

"Mom, I have to go now. I'll meet you tonight at the hotel, okay? Sean... take care, allright?" She stepped to the stage, where most of the others that were chosen to 'lead' the mission were already gathered.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is doctor Deirdre Skye, talented daughter of professor Alexander Skye. Doctor Skye, these are..." Deirdre was introduced to Garland, who winked at her slyly before shaking her hand. She refused to take Morgan's hand, but heartily shook sister Miriam's, doctor Santiago's and Lal's. Yang merely nodded in her direction, with a small smile - she knew instantly that he was among those that saw her as the daughter of her father. With a sigh, she thought of what she was going to face once word got out that she was going and not her father: sunk in thought, she didn't even notice them introducing Zakharov to her. It was doctor Santiago who 'awoke' her.

"Miss Skye, it is time to go." She had a rich Spanish accent. "Call me Corazon," the older woman said as she opened her mouth to speak, "doctor sounds too formal."

"Okay then, call me Deirdre.", she replied with a smile as they walked through a door into a long corridor. "I've heard of you a lot, Corazon. You're quite the expert. Well, and of course I know _Morgan_."

"He is an overly charismatic man. I do not like him." The two looked at each other.

"Well, we agree on something. Oh god, is he staring at us?" For Deirdre had noticed the taller man's eyes move away as she looked at him.

"Probably. It is said that he is insatiable, always looking for a new challenge. I will not present him one."

"I'd like to see him try." Deirdre's jaw was set: the thought alone enraged her.

"...But he is not the only one that noticed us. Your friend the captain and our supervisor Zakharov are discussing us as we speak.", Corazon said in an undertone. "Well, our cold scientist at least shows signs of thawing - he's blushing. ...I cannot believe what he just said!", she continued to whisper.

"What?"

"...Nothing." They had reached the meeting hall where they would be briefed, and Deirdre noticed that the two men, who had previously stayed well back, were now approaching. She nodded as she sat down between Santiago and Garland. A woman entered behind them and closed the doors.

"Ladies and gentlemen... and captain Garland, I'm here to introduce you to the starship that you'll be travelling on. It has been worked on for years by many scientists across the world - and now it is finished. It's called the USS Unity." She pushed a button on a screen and a screen flashed on, showing them an image of a grand spaceship, gleaming in the sunlight. "It has room for up to a thousand passengers - though only three hundred of them will remain awake once the ship has passed Jupiter. It also holds a large area that will be devoted to scientific research - both the necessary variety and the superfluous one that most undoubtedly will have its uses. But this is mostly an introduction, so I'll spare you the details.

There are things required of you. First of all, you must make sure you take with you your own supplies for research and such. That means that you'll have to ask your employers to give you the necessary. The four universities will not have any problem with this, but of some I am more uncertain. Also, you are required to bring along your own staff. It has been proven to give the best results. And lastly... you will be put in cryostatic sleep once the ship exits the solar system. Is there anyone who has a special kind of heart disease or metabolism dysfunction that prevents him or her from going in cryostasis for longer than a month?" The woman paused and surveyed the gathered company: when no one spoke, she continued: "Along these requirements there are also certain liberties you have. Firstly, you may take with you - if you wish this - a family member or other close relative. Among those are also counted long-term relationship partners and fiancés. Also, you may bring one superfluous item with you as a luxury item. The ship has minimal comfort and I can imagine that you couldn't live without, say, a portable video player or a CD-player.

One last comment. If you bring your beloved with you, make sure he or she knows that interfering with your work is out of the question. You have your responsibilities, live accordingly.

Then, for the practical side of the mission. We leave in two weeks: make sure you are ready by then. You will all be accommodated in the complex surrounding the base from which the space vessel will leave: I imagine you can handle your affairs from there as well as from your home. You will now be brought to the complex and showed your quarters. I wish you all a good day." Deirdre rose and could hear the captain say "Welcome to 'Life the Hard Way'..."; as she looked around to see who he was speaking to, she saw that Zakharov and he were already at the doors. She quickly walked over to Santiago.

"What was it they said earlier?"

"...It was nothing, really. Nothing to worry about."

"It was about me, wasn't it?" Deirdre knew instantly. Her greatest fear was that Zakharov saw her as all others did.

"Yes. It was Zakharov. He said... I still cannot believe he, of all people..." Deirdre felt something icy close itself over her heart. She nodded slowly, indicating the other woman to speak. "He said he'd like you best of us two." The older woman's black eyes bored into Deirdre's soft green ones. "Watch yourself, okay? These men will take advantage of you. Though Zakharov... no, he wouldn't. He did not feel comfortable thinking about..."

"About what?", Deirdre asked.

But Santiago was silent.


	2. Hear

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, I don't even think I want to. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

**This chapter has been modified to suit the rating. If you want to, I can post the original chapter under M rating. Let me know if you want to read the original chapter. Also, a review wouldn't hurt, would it? Tell me what you think! ...I enjoyed playing Alpha Centauri... tell me if you did too.**

2) Hear.

With a week gone already and the preparations slowly progressing, Zakharov hadn't spent one single moment in peace. There were always assistants bothering him about something or other, and if it weren't the assistants, it were his friends calling to congratulate him. The professor became moodier and moodier by the minute. And with good reason.

He was constantly thinking of who to bring. He was not married, had no family anymore since his brother died in a terrorist attack. There was his niece, but she was not under his custody, not his to decide upon. His indecisiveness grew more and more as the others brought their family with them. The young boy that was with Deirdre a week ago was also on the base: she was bringing him along. He livened up the place by painting on the walls and breaking the occasional scientific object. He had managed to break half of Zakharov's supplies by now - luckily the professor had plenty. Only his sister's stuff was safe for his rampages.

A knock on his door awakened him. Zakharov looked up from whatever he had been pretending to read and looked on the screen that showed who it was. To his surprise, it was Garland.

"The door's open."

"Ah, here we have our most important scientist! It's been long since anyone has seen you except for dinner, Prokhor. What do you say to a drink?"

"I thought no alcohol was allowed on a military base anymore." Zakharov raised an eyebrow.

"It isn't. We're gonna paint the town. Widest selection of liquors you'll find on this planet, and maybe some lovely girls as well."

"I would fancy something stronger than this." Zakharov held up a bottle of gin and smiled. "I stole it from Morgan, he has plenty of this, though I think he has a problem. Drinking that much cannot..." He was disturbed by another knock on the door. Both men's eyes flashed to the screen, seeing Deirdre and her brother - the former looking thoroughly angry, the latter looking bored but anxious.

"Enter..."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but Sean has come to say something... _haven't you, Sean_!" She pushed the boy towards Zakharov.

"Allright, allright! ...I'm sorry for breaking your supplies, professor." The boy sounded annoyed - Zakharov silently wondered with what Deirdre had threatened him to bring him here. "Now can I go?"

"Okay. ...I'm sorry, professor Zakharov, but he just won't learn. He'll stay off my and Corazon's stuff - he'd better, her stuff is volatile - but yours and Morgan's..."

"Has he apologised to Morgan too, then?" The captain raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not, Jay. Morgan deserves it." Zakharov had to chuckle at hearing that. He, too, thought the taller dark man unfit for the purpose they had assigned him. "Anyway, I'll leave you gentlemen to it. Oh, and thanks for the invitation, Jay, I'd be glad to. Professor, I hope to see you again soon. If only to stop the others from worrying about your sanity."

"I would if I didn't feel more... safe... in here, doctor Skye."

"Oh, no, call me Deirdre - please. A man of your fame..."

"Only if you will likewise call me Prokhor." Zakharov smiled: he was actually being flattered by a girl - scratch that, a _woman_ - that assessed his academic achievements on the basis of her own status in the field. Deirdre noticed and smiled back, although a bit weak.

"Okay, if it will please you... Prokhor." And with that, she was out the door again.

"If you keep going on like that, people will seek more behind this...", the captain commented drily, but with a grin.

"I was merely being friendly", Zakharov defended himself.

It turned out everyone had been invited by captain Garland to go for a drink in the town: except for Miriam and Lal, everyone was there. The mood quickly became looser as the drinks eased everyone. At the earlier hours of the day, everyone went back with the help from the others. Zakharov had tasted vodka for the first time in weeks again, and he had enjoyed it. He had snuck a crate of it on board, but hadn't dared take a bottle in fear of betraying his supply of liquor to anyone - with all those eyes directed to him, he felt uneasy as it was. A chuckle escaped him when he saw the captain walk back with one arm wrapped around Santiago's waist and the other around Deirdre's shoulders. He walked a bit closer to them, to hear what they were talking about and to join the conversation.

"An' here comes our scientific wonder now!" Garland, though sounding extremely drunk, was nothing but dizzy - or so he said.

"Cheers to that!", Deirdre slurred. She had downed one gin after the other, but seemed to have a low tolerance level and was more drunk than anyone else. Santiago merely smiled as she extended her hand to Zakharov.

"Corazon, once academic misfit, now drunk and careless in the arms of my captain." That made Deirdre laugh.

"What does that make me?"

"Ha! I have him in my arms already, you're just trying to steal him."

"Nah, I need someone with more brains and less mouth." Deirdre had difficulties saying it, but the expression she had while saying it wasn't strained at all. She was dead serious.

"What about our professor? Two academic social border cases, you'll marry within a month." Garland smiled deviously at Zakharov, who suddenly didn't care anymore.

"In outer space, no one can hear you say 'I do', so it will have to wait forty years."

"S-spoilsport." Deirdre stuck out her tongue at him. "Oh, but the professor likes me, doesn't he?" Suddenly, Zakharov was unable to reply. She had caught him off guard, and he could only stare at her blankly as she continued. "I get to call him Prokhor, don't I? Lucky lucky me..."

"You're in trouble in the morning...", Garland whispered as Deirdre loosened herself from him and grabbed hold of the professor, hugging him for dear life.

"At least I will not be the only one...", replied Zakharov, as Santiago did the same with the captain.

Zakharov did not remember just how he had ended up in bed. He did remember bringing Deirdre to her room - he remembered it vividly, for she had refused to let go of him until he reasoned that her brother would be waiting for her - but everything else was a blur. Trying to remember it desperately, he closed his eyes while thinking of his tasks for the day.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the silence. Then, a loud 'thunk' sound could be heard.

Zakharov rushed out into the hall, putting on his lab coat over his pyjamas in his hurry to the origin of the noise.

He had been right, it was Deirdre's quarters.

"Get away from her!" It was Santiago's voice, and the next thing he knew, Morgan flew out of her quarters and landed face first. Santiago ran out after him, her hair dishevelled. "And stay out!"

"What did he do?" Zakharov saw the fury in the woman's eyes, plain as day: it had to be something serious, she wouldn't react that way if it wasn't.

"I think he put something in her drink. He was trying to..." She needed to speak no more: Zakharov knew in an instant what it was Morgan had tried to do. He closed in on the much taller man that was still sitting on the floor, wincing because of the rough treatment Corazon had given him.

"If you _ever_ try to do that again - no, if you even _look_ at Deirdre in a funny way, I will not only report you, but I will kill you. Rest assured of it." Zakharov spoke the words, yet heard them as if they were spoken by someone else - cold, threatening. They hung in the air as Morgan rose and scowled. He retreated wordlessly. Zakharov noticed Santiago smiling his way.

"She has been drugged, but I know what with, fortunately. I can prepare her something that will make the effects wear off - can you take care of her while I do this?" Without giving the scientist a chance to protest, she was off to her own quarters. Zakharov looked at the young woman in front of him and swallowed.She looked helpless and fragile.

"Go inside, Deirdre..." She obeyed him immediately and wordlessly: Zakharov had anticipated it. 'Morgan must have administered her a mild sedative, to make her docile and compliant...', Zakharov thought and shuddered at that very thought. He looked around him and, noticing that her quarters were similarly arranged as his, steered her towards the bathroom. "Take a shower, Deirdre, and knock on the door if you are ready. I'll come get you then." She did, and though he closed the door, Zakharov stayed next to it. Santiago returned just when Deirdre knocked.

"I'll go get her...", Zakharov said. He opened the door and stepped inside.

He could have known she wouldn't be dressed. Yet, the impact of seeing her stand before him in that bathroom, naked though clouded by steam and haze, made him curse and avert his eyes. He immediately ran out. "You go get her, Santiago, and take a nightgown with you!" He felt his cheeks burn with shame - no, there was no shame, it was something even worse. He felt attraction. He cursed again, mentally this time.

"Here she is..." Santiago gave her the drink she had prepared. "Sit down on the bed, Deirdre, and wait a bit. It'll work fast. Then she can sleep and try to forget about it."

Moments passed in silence - though twice Santiago tried to say something to Zakharov, and twice he told her to keep silent. Finally, Deirdre blinked and shook her head.

"W-what's...?"

"It was Morgan." Zakharov clenched his fists. He saw the expression on Deirdre's face change from shock to realisation to...

"NO!" The feral cry on Deirdre's part surprised him. She leapt to her feet and flung herself forward: he caught her just in time. She started to cry - she wailed, her shoulders jerking with every sob, her head buried against the professor's shoulder - and he felt something jump in his heart for the first time in a long time as he held her and comforted her for what seemed like hours, until she fell limp in his arms. He didn't need to look at Santiago to know that she had put a tranquilliser in the mixture as well: he just wordlessly put her in her bed and then walked out the door.

"Professor... please..." It was Santiago's voice. Zakharov turned around on the doorstep. "I know what you think of her. I know you care. Please, be gentle with her." He blinked. Shaking his head, he went back to his own quarters to think. She couldn't possibly know what he had felt there... could she?

* * *

Deirdre had her hands full with duties - and managing her younger brother. Not only had she taken care of procuring her supplies and asked her friends/co-workers to join her as her crew on the star ship, she had convinced her mother and father to let Sean come along for the mission. Her father had agreed first, but her mother was dreading the fact that she would lose her two most beloved children: in the end, she had said yes because of the news that 99 of all children would be unemployed in their adulthood. And so it came to pass that her brother was now terrorizing the others. Deirdre knew that he was applying some very personal graffiti art to the walls of the complex - though everyone told her it was refreshing. But what was much less appealing to hear was that he was breaking supplies of Zakharov. She didn't care how much stuff of Morgan's engineers he had broken already, but...

Zakharov was a bit of a loner, she thought as she looked at her inventory of genetic engineering supplies, who devoted all of his time to science and research. She was silently wondering who he would bring. A man of his age was probably married - she imagined him bringing one of those typical Russian women and snickered. Then she thought of the saying that a true scientist was only married to his work and smiled. She hadn't had any problems on that front, preferring her plants above the many men that had broken her heart already. Even though there were exceptions: Gareth, of her crew, and the captain for example. She thought about his invitation to go for a drink and decided to go and look for him to say that she would be joining him. Just as she walked out the door, she collided with someone on the corridor.

"Ouch! Will you watch... oh, Sean! What have you done this time?" Her brother had the kind of guilty look on his face that she had seen many times the past few days.

"That Russian guy's after me! Quick, let me in!" Deirdre's features darkened.

"Have you broken one of the professor's supplies again! This time, you won't just get away with it. You're coming with me to apologise!" She dragged her struggling brother down the hall to Zakharov's quarters and knocked on his door.

"Enter."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but Sean has come to say something... _haven't you, Sean_!" Deirdre glared daggers at her brother, who shuffled forward annoyedly and spoke silently.

"Allright, allright! ...I'm sorry for breaking your supplies, professor." He didn't sound the least bit sorry, but Deirdre thought it was punishment enough to see the professor cast him an extremely severe look. "Now can I go?" She sighed.

"Okay. ...I'm sorry, professor Zakharov, but he just won't learn. He'll stay off my and Corazon's stuff - he'd better, her stuff is volatile - but yours and Morgan's..."

"Has he apologised to Morgan too, then?" She then noticed the captain standing next to Zakharov. A smile made its way onto her face, albeit a sceptical one.

"Of course not, Jay. Morgan deserves it." She had said it with a wry grin, and didn't expect any reaction - Zakharov's chuckle surprised her as well as catching her off guard. "Anyway, I'll leave you gentlemen to it. Oh, and thanks for the invitation, Jay, I'd be glad to. Professor," she said while turning to Zakharov with a smile, "I hope to see you again soon. If only to stop the others from worrying about your sanity."

"I would if I didn't feel more... safe... in here, doctor Skye." His voice was kind, unlike that of Morgan or Yang. She couldn't help but broaden her smile.

"Oh, no, call me Deirdre - please. A man of your fame..."

"Only if you will likewise call me Prokhor." She blinked: had the most intelligent man she was likely to meet in her entire life _really_ asked her to call him by his first name?

"Okay, if it will please you... Prokhor." She went outside quickly, too astounded to believe it all. Was she really becoming friends with the smartest man since Einstein?

The moment the first sip of gin passed her lips, she knew she'd get drunk. It was a strange thing with her and liquor: she knew she couldn't stand it, but she found its taste much to her liking and she enjoyed the occasional drink. It reminded her of her not-so-distant student years. At the end of their outing, she was helped back to the base by Corazon and Jay. She was faintly aware of the hand the captain had put around her shoulders - not intimate but friendly, unlike the other hand that rested on her friend's hip. Zakharov joined them, she noticed from the corner of her eye.

"An' here comes our scientific wonder now!" The captain sounded very cheerful, and very much drunk. Deirdre snickered - she was long beyond sober herself.

"Cheers to that!" She faintly noticed her speech was slurred, but dismissed the thought immediately. Zakharov looked better after five or so gins. She smiled his way. Santiago extended her hand to the professor.

"Corazon, once academic misfit, now drunk and careless in the arms of my captain." Deirdre had to laugh again. She looked at her friend in mock indignity.

"What does that make me?"

"Ha! I have him in my arms already, you're just trying to steal him." Santiago even poked out her tongue at her, it was something Deirdre found cute. She shook her head.

"Nah, I need someone with more brains and less mouth." She tried her best to look serious and succeeded. With a firm nod of her head, she gave her statement force. Garland smiled deviously her way.

"What about our professor? Two academic social border cases, you'll marry within a month." Deirdre suddenly felt something wash over her temporarily. She had trouble placing it.

"In outer space, no one can hear you say 'I do', so it will have to wait forty years." Saved by the scientist. He didn't look too put off by the idea, though, but she suspected the alcohol to cloud her judgement.

"S-spoilsport." She poked out her tongue at him, which made him smile. "Oh, but the professor likes me, doesn't he? I get to call him Prokhor, don't I? Lucky lucky me..." She unhooked Jay's arm from her shoulders and walked over to said professor to grab hold of him. He was having a whispered conversation with the captain that Deirdre didn't bother to listen to: instead, she was enjoying the warmth of the alcohol and the fact that the professor didn't push her away. She silently wondered in a sober part of her brain why he didn't... and the next moment forgot all about it as she was helped to her room.

Morning brought a hangover. Deirdre woke too soon because of her brother: she grumpily sent him away before climbing into her bed again. Pondering on what had happened last night, she found her antics with John, Corazon and Prokhor clouded by a fog of liquor-use. She suddenly felt sick. What had she done? Had she embarrassed the professor? She had found it wonderful for him to loosen up like he had, but feared that she had driven him back into his brooding of the previous week. Before being able to think about it further, however, she was disturbed by a knock on the door. She put on a robe before looking who it was. To her surprise and disgust, it was Morgan.

"May I enter, Deirdre, I wish to talk to you!" He didn't sound angry or upset, but friendly. Deirdre carefully opened the door. He stepped in slowly. "I didn't get the chance to speak to you yesterday. You seemed a bit preoccupied by the captain and the professor."

"Well, yes, they did monopolize me a bit...", she said hesitantly. "What do you want to speak to me about?" She felt uneasy, standing in her robe and pyjamas in front of a man that was so obviously enjoying the sight.

"Oh, just this and that... Here, I brought you some juice." She looked at him incredulously as he poured her a glass. Could she trust him? She hesitantly took a sip: enjoying the slightly bitter taste of lemons, she drank the rest of the glass in one gulp. She looked at him.

"Well... thanks for the juice, but I really don't..." Suddenly, she felt dizzy. Putting a hand to her forehead, she took a few uneasy steps but had to return to her bed. Everything went hazy around her... she heard Santiago call out her name from afar...

She could make out Corazon's form, hitting Morgan, twice, three times - kicking him out... She saw Zakharov standing in the corridor, looking thoroughly shocked... he kindly put his hands on her shoulders - a different touch from Morgan's, much softer and kinder - as he pushed her into her room and then towards her bathroom... She felt her body automatically undress and step into the shower - taking a shower - drying her hair... she felt her hand knock on the door - heard the voices of Zakharov and Santiago... Zakharov came in to get her, but cursed as she stood naked and was unable to raise a hand to cover herself... moments later, Corazon came in, clothed her in another pyjamas and took her to her room again, sat her down on the bed and gave her a bitter concoction... Slowly, everything returned to normal and the outlines of Santiago and Zakharov became visible. Though Santiago was fully clothed, Zakharov wore only his pyjamas with his lab coat thrown hastily over them.

"W-what's...?", she started as she looked from Santiago to Zakharov and back.

"It was Morgan." Santiago's eyeswere sad and tear-filled- Zakharov looked furious. Slowly, Deirdre realised what Morgan had wanted to do.

"NO!", she cried out - feeling betrayed and soiled and unsafe and a million other things at once. She flung herself forward, desperate for escape - for _something_ - and was caught by Zakharov. Again, she felt the kindness of his touch as he held her.

And she cried. She cried until her mind was empty, until her soul felt a bit better. Her eyes closed: she welcomed sleep. She felt safe falling asleep in the protection of her two new-found friends. And she welcomed the blissful black of unconsciousness.


	3. Remember

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, I don't even think I want to. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

3) Remember.

The next day, Zakharov went back to Garland, who had been too busy the previous day to have an off-the-record talk but said he'd make time as soon as possible: "Don't worry, I know what you wanna talk about and I've already reported him", he added grimly. Zakharov looked equally grim. He hadn't been able to think about anything else that last day. Deirdre, helpless... Unfortunately, his thoughts were often disrupted by other thoughts, thoughts he tried to repress - thoughts on how beautiful Deirdre had looked in the bathroom. 'She is out of bounds', Zakharov thought severely. '_Out of bounds_. Stop thinking about her in that way, Prokhor, this doesn't help anyone!' His mind thought differently, though. That was why he was shaking his head occasionally while walking to the captain.

"Ah, Prokhor, there you are. Come in, come in..." The captain saw Zakharov's vacant expression and frowned. "You're still worrying?"

"...A bit." Zakharov blushed. "Something happened... While Deirdre was drugged, I told her to take a shower so she would at least be refreshed physically. I knew she would do it if I asked her to, because of the drug. I told her to knock on the door when she was finished so I could come in and get her. But I forgot to tell her to put on new pyjamas. She... I..."

"Lemme guess... you saw." The captain's comment betrayed nothing of his state of mind.

"...Yes. But that is not the worst part. After I... well, afterwards, I could not stop thinking of her. I have no clue what to do now. How can I even face her?"

"Damn..."

"Is it that bad, John?" Zakharov looked up, despair in his eyes and his voice.

"I can't help you with this. But I can only tell you to try - _try _- and put it aside. So you've fallen in love with one of your closest co-workers that you'll be working with for, say, the rest of your life... could've been worse."

"But this _is_ the worst it can get!" Zakharov stood from his chair vigorously. "I cannot honestly be expected to maintain a professional relationship with her if all I think about is... well, an entirely different kind of relationship.", he finished, embarrassed of himself and the situation.

"Try to. There's no one better than you for the job, Prokhor, and I'm not letting you resign just because you've noticed the ecologist of this mission is hot as hell." This made Zakharov chuckle even though he still was troubled. He smiled. "There you go, you're back to smiling. Keep your thoughts of naked female scientists for after hours, and you'll still be able to function. I think."

"I hope so. Thank you for the advice... huh?" Zakharov saw someone dart away from the door on the screen next to it. To his horror, he recognised the small form.

"Sean..." The captain turned to Zakharov.

"He wouldn't... tell her, would he?", Zakharov asked tentatively. But he knew what the answer would be already.

"You're in trouble...", the captain said, voicing exactly that answer.

Trouble, lucky for Zakharov, stayed out of his path, and his professional relationship with Deirdre remained good as well as their friendship. He smiled as he looked out of the porthole and into the black expanse that was space. Lift-off had happened a while ago and now they were all busy with their research - setting up, testing and the occasional re-setting up. Zakharov's laboratory, where all the high-tech stuff was situated, was now an organised chaos of experimental set-ups and animal cages.

One of the doors opened with a soft squeak. Zakharov got back to reading a plan and said: "Don't bother me with something you can easily handle on your own..."

"Oh my, those poor animals!" Zakharov looked up incredulously: it was indeed Deirdre who was standing at the array of cages. "Prokhor, those cages are so cramped!"

"Yes, well, we didn't have any bigger cages..." He defended himself before he was even asked to, he realised. "It is, however, nice to see you again, Deirdre. You don't stop by often."

"Maybe I should've... can I put them in my lab, Prokhor?"

"We need them for tests..."

"Yes, but surely not on a daily basis. Come on, you can come and get one any time you want to. Besides, my lab is just 'round the corner. And what's best, it'll make you come by.", she added with a wink. "Come with me. Take those three cages, I'll take the rest." Zakharov was so disarmed by her smile that he didn't argue and picked up said cages. They walked through the corridor and into Deirdre's laboratory, the door of which opened with the same soft squeak.

Zakharov gasped: whereas his laboratory had a cramped and jumbled feeling, hers felt free and even unscientific. Plants grew in large plastic containers filled with fertile ground, tubes of water ran under a protective layer of glass. There were trees, vegetable patches, flowers and even a large closed-off tank with a three metre by three metre patch of grass.

"This..." Zakharov was awestruck. He had never even dreamt this was possible! "This is no research lab, it is the garden of Eden!"

"Jay says so as well, he comes by whenever he has the time. Oh, and here...", she pointed out a secluded corner where two or three assistants were working with various microscopes and leaves, "This is where my research and bio-engineering takes place. I haven't heard any specs about this planet, though, so I don't exactly know what to make of the plants. But it's nice to grow flower vines all the same." She pointed towards the ceiling of the lab, which was covered entirely in deep blue flowers. "A Skye creation. My dad told me he'd discovered you could let vines grow flowers - I went beyond that and engineered a vine that flowers continuously. Fragrance isn't needed, just colour. It makes me think of a real sky..."

"You'll see one soon, Deirdre. It's been two weeks, we'll probably be going into cryostatic sleep in a week or two more..." Zakharov's thoughts drifted off at the mention of sleep: for his sleep had been uneasy ever since he had had his talk with the captain. His dreams were constantly about Deirdre: and in his dreams, it was not science that bound them together...

"...but you're probably not interested in how I did it, so I'll let it rest.", Deirdre concluded. She opened the large tank with the grass patch and released the animals in it. The mice crawled around happily, while the puppy immediately stretched in the grass and fell asleep once more. The various insects crawled into the soil. Deirdre closed the tank again and pushed a button on the wall: immediately, the walls fogged and then slowly became transparent again.

"It's a controlled environment setting. The animals should feel right at home in it. Plus they can get fed every day here: those trees are in an accelerated environment, so they provide fresh fruit every day."

"You can imitate seasons then?"

"Mm-hm", Deirdre said as she motioned for a small object in the right-hand corner of the tank in which the trees all stood. "Bees, for fertilisation. And we only pick the fruit that we need, the rest falls onto the soil and becomes composted. We've set a few bacteria loose in the soil that compost anything organic in an hour." She smiled, proud of her achievements.

Suddenly, an intercom bleeped by the table. Deirdre ran to it and pushed the button.

"Yes, Jay?"

"Can you and Prokhor please come to the central meeting room with the rest of your staff? Prokhor, your assistant Jenkins will take your staff to the meeting room. Come here straight away." The intercom bleeped again and turned silent. Zakharov looked at Deirdre.

"He sounded serious..."

"Yes, let's go." As Deirdre walked out the door, Zakharov couldn't help but notice how sensual she swayed her hips while walking. He swallowed - he felt his blood burn. "Come along, Prokhor." Silently, he mused that he would not sleep easy that night - not with her on his mind like she was now.

* * *

Deirdre had awoken the next day, still feeling thoroughly disgusted. But she realised that she had already missed a day and got out of bed reluctantly. A knock on her door startled her as she was searching for a bit of breakfast. Her eyes darted to the screen next to the door - she was afraid she'd see Morgan... but it was Santiago.

"Wait..." She walked up to the door, pushed a few buttons and the door opened, allowing Corazon to enter. Deirdre closed the door again and locked it with the code which Zakharov had been kind enough to enter for her while she was sleeping. She had found the note on her table and mused on the old scientist's kindness. "How goes it out there?"

"Morgan's being questioned by the board... I doubt he'll be kicked out of the mission, but at least he'll be reprimanded. And Zakharov looked absolutely stricken the rest of yesterday. He was shocked. Deirdre... what's the matter?" For Deirdre had sunk into a chair slowly. She knew why Zakharov had looked the way he did.

"Do you suppose it's because of what happened yesterday... in the bathroom, I mean?"

"You remember that, don't you?" Santiago's voice was soft now, and friendly. "I cannot deny that he was horrified to see you naked. But not because of what had happened. Because of you. Deirdre... Zakharov..." The other woman paused, unsure how to voice her thoughts. "He is attracted to you.", she concluded a bit lamely.

"He - what - attracted? To _me_!" Deirdre blinked, then shook her head. "Impossible."

"Believe me, I saw it in his eyes yesterday. It was not the blatant lust I saw in Morgan's eyes, but something infinitely softer. He cares for you. He even threatened to kill Morgan yesterday, when he saw you at your doorstep..." Deirdre couldn't believe it. She respected the scientist and indeed felt warmly towards him ever since their trip to town, but didn't suspect him to feel any differently. But it was possible: something about him had seemed so soft to her as he held her while she cried. And she had felt him pick her up and put her into her bed - it was not Santiago who had done that, for she had felt the pressure of the ring he wore on his thumb.

"And how are my co-workers and assistants faring?", she asked, not willing to go into the previous subject any further. Santiago nodded softly - as if she knew the subject was deliberately changed - and updated Deirdre on the progress of the boarding of the material and the little problems among the scientists. Just as they were discussing the misadventures of her friend Gareth, someone knocked on the door forcibly. Both women's eyes darted to the screen anxiously - they both breathed out slowly as they saw it was only Deirdre's brother Sean. Deirdre opened the door for him again and closed it behind his back.

"What is it? Did you break something of Prokhor's again?", asked Deirdre, a bit concerned as the boy in front of her was out of breath. He shook his head and breathed in slowly before speaking.

"It's the professor... I was walking... in the corridor just... just outside the labs... I didn't mean to overhear..."

"Easy, easy... you overheard someone?"

"Yes, professor Zakharov and the captain. They were talking about you, sis, and about what happened yesterday... and the professor said he couldn't stop thinking of you! It was horrible... Huh? My recorder?" Sean took a small pocket tape recorder out of his back pocket. "It must've kept recording while I..."

"Eavesdropped.", commented Santiago drily. Sean grinned as he nodded slowly.

"I was trying to record a conversation of Gareth with some girl assistant of Morgan's or something when he found out. I ran into the hall and then I heard... must've forgotten to turn it off..." Deirdre knew about her brother's 'hobby' to record private conversations just for fun and wasn't surprised. But her curiosity was crying out for her to rewind the tape and listen if the conversation of the two men... Santiago looked at her curiously, but it was Sean who decided the battle by pressing rewind. "Ah, c'mon sis, you know you wanna hear..." After having rewinded the tape to the beginning, they first heard a five minute love poem from Gareth to a girl named Ishi, and then heard a string of curses and the sound of running.

"My brother, the coward", said Deirdre with a smile as the running endured and the cursing became fainter.

"Sshh!", said Santiago from her chair. The running had stopped and Deirdre heard the faint voices of her two friends.

"Something happened... While Deirdre was drugged, I told her to take a shower so she would at least be refreshed physically. I knew she would do it if I asked her to, because of the drug. I told her to knock on the door when she was finished so I could come in and get her. But I forgot to tell her to put on new pyjamas. She... I..." Zakharov's voice sounded extremely agitated. Deirdre had to swallow: she found it extremely hard to hear the mingled feelings in his voice - and there was undoubtedly something akin to desire in there as well...

"Lemme guess... you saw." A dry comment from the captain.

"...Yes. But that is not the worst part. After I... well, afterwards, I could not stop thinking of her. I have no clue what to do now. How can I even face her?"

"Damn..."

"Is it that bad, John?" Now there was clear despair in his voice. Deirdre blushed. Now she knew for sure that the scientist had fallen for her.

"I can't help you with this. But I can only tell you to try - _try _- and put it aside. So you've fallen in love with one of your closest co-workers that you'll be working with for, say, the rest of your life... could've been worse."

"But this _is_ the worst it can get!" The scraping of a chair. "I cannot honestly be expected to maintain a professional relationship with her if all I think about is... well, an entirely different kind of relationship." Deirdre could nearly feel his blush in those words.

"Try to. There's no one better than you for the job, Prokhor, and I'm not letting you resign just because you've noticed the ecologist of this mission is hot as hell." A soft chuckle - Zakharov's chuckle, Deirdre realised. "There you go, you're back to smiling. Keep your thoughts of naked female scientists for after hours, and you'll still be able to function. I think."

"I hope so. Thank you for the advice... huh?" Now they heard the sound of running again. Then, when the running stopped, they heard knocking, then a click as the tape had reached its end. All three sat in silence: Santiago was first to speak.

"You're in trouble..."

"I am not." It was a pathetic defence, and Deirdre knew this. "I never heard this. It cannot be true."

"It is...", said the older woman as Sean returned to playing video games, "I heard it as well as you did - loud and clear. He has fallen for you." Deirdre knew she was right.

Her boss fancied her.

She had forgotten it by the time that the mission had truly started - though 'forgotten' was actually 'repressed'. Even then, two weeks after lift-off, she found that at times she mused about the scientist even more than she should: and at times she caught herself thinking of their last conversation. If he really did have feelings for her, she then concluded, he was well able to hide the fact. 'And he plays a mean game of chess...', she added as an afterthought. She had doubted his talents but he had proven himself a worthy adversary. They had played for hours, and only stopped playing when Sean had come to tell her that she was needed in the lab. 'I would've won that game...', she thought with a smile.

"Doctor?" One of her assistants walked up to her.

"Yes, Debra?"

"The grass patch is growing nicely. I've set it to normal season pattern now. But Sean told me that Zakharov has guinea pigs with him..." Deirdre's features darkened. She _had_ known this, but never thought about it too much - she had had other things on her mind...

"I'll go see _professor_ Zakharov and talk to him about it. Is it okay if I arrange for the animals to be inside the grass tank?"

"No problem, doctor", the girl replied with a grin. "They'll have a peaceful life."

"Right... let's go see those guinea pigs..." Deirdre exited her lab and walked over to Zakharov's, which she had actually never visited - she had fancied an excuse to go there, and knew it wouldn't be too long before someone gave her one anyway. Rounding the corner, she saw the door above which it read 'Physics and Chemistry labs': glad to be able to exit the cold metallic halls again, she pushed the button next to the door to allow it to open.

"Don't bother me with something you can easily handle on your own...", Zakharov's voice resounded from one of the far corners where he appeared to read a blueprint. Deirdre, however, was preoccupied with the testing animals, who were shut in cages where they could hardly move.

"Oh my, those poor animals!", she exclaimed as she rushed over to the table on which the cages were stacked: as the professor walked over to her, she looked at him in disbelief – not wanting to believe that he had ordered the inhumane treatment of the poor things. "Prokhor, those cages are so cramped!"

"Yes, well, we didn't have any bigger cages..." His tone was defensive, but he seemed to realise it immediately and continued in a much softer tone. "It is, however, nice to see you again, Deirdre. You don't stop by often." Now _that_ was sounding like he felt sorry she didn't.

"Maybe I should've... can I put them in my lab, Prokhor?" Deirdre looked at her friend pleadingly, her gaze practically begging for him to give in.

"We need them for tests...", Zakharov defended himself again, but Deirdre didn't relent.

"Yes, but surely not on a daily basis. Come on, you can come and get one any time you want to. Besides, my lab is just 'round the corner. And what's best, it'll make you come by.", she added with a wink. "Come with me. Take those three cages, I'll take the rest." She picked up the smaller cages and walked out the still-opened door, hearing Zakharov's footsteps close behind her. She walked over to her own lab, opened the door with a swift push of the button and briskly walked inside, depositing the cages on an empty spot on one of the tables. She turned around: Zakharov was still standing near the entrance, clearly awestruck by her lab. She walked over to him slowly, relishing the fact that he was astounded by her achievements.

"This... This is no research lab, it is the garden of Eden!" Deirdre grinned as she heard his voice shake with awe.

"Jay says so as well, he comes by whenever he has the time. Oh, and here...", she pointed out a secluded corner where two or three assistants were working with various microscopes and leaves, "This is where my research and bio-engineering takes place. I haven't heard any specs about this planet, though, so I don't exactly know what to make of the plants. But it's nice to grow flower vines all the same." She pointed towards the ceiling of the lab with a sense of pride: the ceiling was covered entirely in a vine that bore countless deep blue flowers. "A Skye creation. My dad told me he'd discovered you could let vines grow flowers - I went beyond that and engineered a vine that flowers continuously. Fragrance isn't needed, just colour. It makes me think of a real sky...", she said with a contented sigh.

"You'll see one soon, Deirdre. It's been two weeks, we'll probably be going into cryostatic sleep in a week or two more..." Zakharov made an offhand remark, but Deirdre was not distracted.

"My dad taught me how to do it when I started working in the university labs. He had made the first one, and called it after me – I still don't know how he got the idea to name a plant with bright pink flowers after me – and then he taught me what parts of the plant needed to be altered and which alterations could prove useful or beautiful. It's not difficult to do, really – I think even a non-biologist like you, Prokhor, could do it - but you're probably not interested in how I did it, so I'll let it rest.", Deirdre concluded as she saw her friend stare into nothingness, apparently having been lost in thoughts. She opened the large tank with the grass patch and released the animals in it. The mice crawled around happily, while the puppy immediately stretched in the grass and fell asleep once more. The various insects crawled into the soil. Deirdre closed the tank again and pushed a button on the wall: immediately, the walls fogged and then slowly became transparent again.

"It's a controlled environment setting. The animals should feel right at home in it. Plus they can get fed every day here: those trees are in an accelerated environment, so they provide fresh fruit every day."

"You can imitate seasons then?" Again, he seemed to be impressed with her achievements.

"Mm-hm", Deirdre said as she motioned for a small object in the right-hand corner of the tank in which the trees all stood – the pride and joy of her entire achievement. "Bees, for fertilisation. And we only pick the fruit that we need, the rest falls onto the soil and becomes composted. We've set a few bacteria loose in the soil that compost anything organic in an hour." She smiled as she relished the fact that her superior was pleasantly impressed with her work.

And then the intercom bleeped, startling them both. Deirdre quickly went over to the table on which the intercom device stood and took a quick glance at who it was before pressing 'receive' – her previous intercom experiences with Morgan had taught her prudence, if it hadn't been present before.

"Yes, Jay?"

"Can you and Prokhor please come to the central meeting room with the rest of your staff? Prokhor, your assistant Jenkins will take your staff to the meeting room. Come here straight away." The intercom bleeped again and turned silent. Deirdre turned around to find Zakharov looking at her with a worried expression.

"He sounded serious..."

"Yes, let's go.", she said, suddenly becoming worried as well. She walked briskly over to the door of her labs and turned around: her friend wasn't following her, he seemed to stare at her instead. 'He isn't staring at me – he's just... lost in thoughts... yeah, that's all...', Deirdre thought uneasily, yet she knew that it was a lie. "Come along, Prokhor.", she said, and he startled before walking over to her. As she closed her lab door behind her, she looked at the scientist as he walked off slowly – he wanted her to catch up to him – and then shook her head.

'He was just lost in thoughts just now, and that's all', she thought. But she knew it wasn't true...

_A/N: my USB stick decided to screw up all files on it last week on Thursday, when I was supposed to have updated. In a stroke of supreme luck, I realised I still had files 1 through 9 on my hard disk, but it will take a while to retype the lost chapters. I will try to update weekly, but the updates might slow when I reach the end of my 'supply' of finished chapters. Oh, and thanks for the first review, it is much appreciated. I hope that many may follow - I simply love the reviews, sometimes even the flames - because they express that my hard work is read if not appreciated._


	4. Do

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, I don't even think I want to. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

4) Do

When Zakharov and Deirdre arrived at the meeting room, the captain was already waiting for them, along with the others. From the corner of his eye, Zakharov saw Morgan cast Deirdre covert looks – he shot the leading engineer a covert look of his own, speaking of his earlier threat, and the tall African looked away from Deirdre and shot both the captain and Zakharov a look of purest loathing. The captain sighed.

"People, I have terrible news…" He looked crestfallen despite the supportive smile Santiago gave him. "Who noticed the beautiful array of fireworks this morning? …No one? Well, I did. A series of explosions lit up space behind us – nearly impossible to see in the light of the sun, but very obvious nevertheless. I worried and sent a message to Mission Control back on Earth. There was no response. The Earth mainframe of the mission is dead. A look through our telescope confirmed my fears. Ladies and gentlemen…" Santiago sobbed, and Deirdre looked up at the captain, seemingly dumbstruck. Zakharov anticipated the answer. "Earth lies in ruins." It took a moment to seep in, and then Miriam slowly pressed her hand over her mouth, which seemed unwilling to close. Zakharov put his hand on Deirdre's shoulder in a friendly gesture – she looked about ready to collapse. He sighed as he felt a feeling of deepest desire wash over him – the desire to take her into his arms and comfort her, no matter who was looking in. It was a feeling he had become quite familiar with over the course of the past three weeks. Every time he had seen her, if it were for a game or chess or just a friendly chat, he'd feel his insides doing back flips or his blood leave his brain altogether. His stomach clenched, his heart stopped, his brain blocked – all because of her. She looked his way and smiled shakily before sobbing silently again.

"What do we do now?" No one had suspected Yang's voice to sound so unwavering.

"We continue, of course," Lal replied firmly, "like the UN charter tells us to. 'If the mission is not aborted, it will continue _whatever the situation on Earth_.' Besides, if we are the last of humankind, like the captain says, we cannot just die out here."

"Indeed, we've come too far. I will not let this come to my heart. …Everyone is relieved of duties for the next twenty-four hours. Have a good night's sleep, wake up when you want to wake up, have a good meal and come to terms with it." With that, the captain was off, followed by Santiago. Deirdre lingered for a while, as did Zakharov. Then, she turned around and went to her quarters, leaving Zakharov to go to his own. He did so hesitantly.

Earth gone… 'My friends, my niece, everyone gone… It…' He sat down in his quarters, which he had decorated soberly, and took the bottle of vodka that stood on his desk, between heaps of blueprints and experimental set-up designs. 'My home, the University… All memories?' He downed his first glass in one long swig and immediately poured another. 'Beslin, Salandro, Stephenson… only a thousand survivors…' "This is all that is left…" The scientist couldn't help but feel his eyes fill with tears. Sadness – how long had it been since he last cried?

"Prokhor?" The sound of Deirdre's voice startled him. As he looked around, he saw Deirdre stand in the doorway. "A-are you c-crying?"

"Deirdre… who hasn't got anything to cry about now?" He motioned for a chair beside his. "Sit down, please."

"I c-came to ask… might I h-have some?" She pointed at the bottle of vodka he held. He smiled weakly and nodded, rummaging around his desk for another glass and pouring her a small measure. "Oh, Prokhor… my parents… my friends, my family… my brother and those on board are all that I have left…" She sobbed as tears ran over her cheeks. "Y-you must've had someone t-too… A wife, or family…"

"Only one niece, but she was raised by someone else. But I had friends, a home, and a place at the University… Deirdre, I had nothing but memories, yet they were as tangible as everything you lost."

"_Prokhor…_" Deirdre downed her drink just as Zakharov had only moments before, and motioned for another. "Oh… you know… you care…" She hugged him – very much like she had when she was drunk, but this time it was different. Zakharov felt all reason leave him and he stroked her hair. He couldn't help himself.

"I care, Deirdre, I care… I care more for you than I do for anyone else…" he whispered into her hair, taking in her scent and warmth – he cared not for anything else in that moment. They drank and talked of their memories, getting more and more drunk and carefree.

"…And to think, I-if it were m-my father…"

"Don't think like that, Deirdre – dear Deirdre – but think of it as an opportunity. Your father m-must have known. He insisted on your going…"

"Y-yes… he must've- must've known!" Deirdre took another sip of her third glass. "P-prokhor…" She grabbed his arm and turned her face to him. "Y-your friendship means s-s-so much…"

"I know. Your friendship means as much to me. …But you must be tired", he said as he saw her suppress a wide yawn. "Do you want me to escort you to your quarters?"

"P-please…" He offered her his arm and she held it as if it was the only steady thing in the world. They walked through the empty corridors together, musing drunkenly on the quietude on the ship.

"Everyone m-must be s-s-sleeping…" Deirdre said slowly. "P-prokhor, here… it's here…" She steered him to a small door, where she punched in a security code: it opened with a soft hissing sound and Zakharov was confronted with the messiest room he had ever seen.

"S-should've cleaned but… meh, you don't care 'bout how messy it is, do you?" He smiled broader than he wanted to and shook his head.

"Of course not. I'm used to order, but if you're used to chaos, then chaos is what you need. I won't mind it at all." He looked around. "Where is your brother?"

"The captain put him in cryosleep already, said he was ma-making too much trouble… Can I…" She hesitated, Zakharov knew, to ask him something.

"What is it you want, Deirdre? Please, I'll oblige." He wouldn't dare refuse her anything, not at that moment – not when she was drunk and in need of company.

"Stay here…" He turned around, surprised by her request, and stared into her round green eyes. "I can't stand it alone, I needed someone to stay with me, and Santiago was unavailable…"

"I think I know who occupied her…", Zakharov said with somewhat of a devious smile.

"…And then I saw you sitting in your room and I thought 'why not' and… Please? For me?"

Zakharov was torn: if he would, there was no telling what his alcohol-clouded brain would have him do – she was tempting as it was, but the drinking had made her as soft and innocent as a schoolgirl and he would not be able to hold himself up if he… But on the other hand, if he said he wouldn't, he would hurt her and he couldn't face that, either.

"I will stay, if that is what you want. But where can I sleep then?"

"Well, there's a sofa in my bedroom… but if you're not comfortable with that…"

"It's no problem, really." He resolved to steel himself for the temptation. Deirdre retreated into her bedroom and called for him moments later: Zakharov came in to find her in her bed already, the sheets drawn up to her waist only. Zakharov swallowed.

He would not sleep easy if he had her on his mind. No, he wouldn't sleep _at all_ when all he had to do was look at her.

But he fell asleep almost immediately while looking at her sleeping form, the alcohol drowning out anything but her.

The next morning, Zakharov awoke only to find her up and about already: he rose himself and walked to her living area. She greeted him cheerily, though she put her hand against her forehead almost immediately after that.

"You have a hangover", Zakharov stated the obvious. "I can fix that. Do you have any tomatoes?"

"…Maybe. Check the fridge." She pointed to a small rectangular metal cupboard. As he opened it, he saw an array of vegetables inside it. "And?"

"You have them. I'll juice them for you. Then, with a few herbs in it, you'll have something that will give you more energy." He went to work with various appliances and after five minutes presented her a smooth drink. "Here, drink it to the bottom." She obliged, remarking after having downed it completely that it tasted very good. She smiled.

"I can feel it working already. It really helps! …It's better than what I got after last time…", she added with a wry smile. Zakharov looked at her intently.

"I am a better man than Morgan. He only wanted to… Well, I don't."

"You want the same, only in a different way…" Deirdre said softly. Zakharov looked up at her, shocked. Sean _did_ tell her… he was at a loss for words. But she smiled. "Prokhor… I want us to be friends, because I do value your friendship above everything. I know you're different from Morgan in that you won't take what I won't give you."

"I would never dare. And your friendship means just as much to me. …I'll go now. I'll come by your lab later, one of my assistants needs a mouse for one of our tests."

"Why can't he come and get it?" she asked.

"Because I want the pleasure of seeing you today." Zakharov winked as he left her quarters. She winked back and smiled a beautifully broad smile. His heart felt elated: she trusted him, and he would never dare shame that trust. Never.

The next two weeks passed faster than Zakharov had expected, and the time had come for the seven to be put in cryostasis. Zakharov eyed the tanks that lined the lower part of the ship with awe and unease. He didn't expect it to be unpleasant or boring, but the thought of sleeping for forty years was one that he didn't like. He saw Deirdre eye her cryotank with the same apprehension and smiled at her. She smiled back.

"You'll have pleasant dreams in there, Deirdre. Dreams of a new green planet, of a new life… and I'll be waiting when you wake. I'll help you make your dreams come true."

"I know you will. You dream the same, dream of science and of the advances the new world will bring us. I'll be wanting to see you first thing after I wake."

"I expect you'll see John first."

"Darn it. And here I was hoping to see the face of a genius first."

"Hey, I resent that!", sounded the captain's voice across the platform, with a tinge of a laugh in it. Deirdre winked at him and his hoarse laugh resounded. "Okay… Cryotank four-zero-five, lieutenant-commander doctor Deirdre Angelina Skye!" Zakharov heard Deirdre's titles and smiled. "Deirdre, it's your turn. Have a nice sleep and I'll try to drag Prokhor over to you when you wake up."

"I don't need to be dragged, I'll come on my own accord." He turned to Deirdre with a smile. "Have a nice sleep, dream of the future and you'll awake safely into that future."

"See you in forty years…", she said as she stepped inside. The cryotechnicians attached the electrodes to her bare arms and legs and forehead. Zakharov drank in the sight of her in the tight outfit that was required for those that would go into cryostasis – he too wore it – and smiled at her. He gave her thumbs up as the lid of the cryotank closed and looked in until he heard his own name called.

"Cryotank four-zero-zero, commander professor Prokhor Leonid Zakharov!" He stepped into the tank and felt the soft sting of electricity enter his arms and legs as he was put into an artificial sleep by means of a drug he had been required to take earlier. Before he closed his eyes, he thought of Deirdre's words and smiled.

"_I'll be wanting to see you first thing after I wake_"

* * *

Deirdre arrived at the meeting room together with Zakharov. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and she felt a cloud hanging above them all. Deirdre noticed Morgan casting her weird looks and shivered: yet, a moment later, he looked away and glared at Zakharov, who had apparently made it clear that he wanted her left alone. She smiled. 'He's so caring…' She heard the captain sigh and looked up again. 

"People, I have terrible news…" He looked crestfallen despite the supportive smile Santiago gave him. "Who noticed the beautiful array of fireworks this morning? …No one? Well, I did. A series of explosions lit up space behind us – nearly impossible to see in the light of the sun, but very obvious nevertheless. I worried and sent a message to Mission Control back on Earth. There was no response. The Earth mainframe of the mission is dead. A look through our telescope confirmed my fears. Ladies and gentlemen…" Santiago sobbed, and Deirdre's heart sank. She already knew what was going to follow and yet needed to hear him say it somehow. She looked at John, stared at him, at a loss for words. "Earth lies in ruins."

Her heart broke slowly into painful fragments as the seconds passed. Deirdre saw sister Miriam raise a hand to cover her mouth that seemed unwilling to close. A hand touched her shoulder softly: it was Zakharov's. She saw the hurt in his eyes and knew she had to look exactly the same: with a shaky smile, she thanked him for his care and sobbed.

"What do we do now?" Yang, his voice sounding oddly even, voiced the thoughts of all gathered – or so it seemed.

"We continue, of course," Lal replied firmly, "like the UN charter tells us to. 'If the mission is not aborted, it will continue _whatever the situation on Earth_.' Besides, if we are the last of humankind, like the captain says, we cannot just die out here."

"Indeed, we've come too far. I will not let this come to my heart. …Everyone is relieved of duties for the next twenty-four hours. Have a good night's sleep, wake up when you want to wake up, have a good meal and come to terms with it." Garland gave a curt nod and was off, followed by Corazon. Deirdre stayed a bit longer, shaking slightly, before slowly walking to her quarters, seeing people flee around her, flee to the safe haven of the arms of friends and other loved ones…

Deirdre stopped walking as on impulse, then turned around. She made her way to Zakharov's room. He would know how to comfort her.

Besides, he'd need some comforting as well, no doubt.

She was surprised to see the door to his quarters was open: the scientist was staring into a glass of vodka that was definitely not his first. He was lost in thought, didn't notice her standing there…

"This is all that is left…" She saw tears leak over his cheeks: undoubtedly he was thinking of those dear to him. She felt awful for looking in – it felt like spying – yet he clearly felt the same deep grief she felt. She, too, had pondered; she, too, had cried on her way to her quarters. She spoke carefully when she felt the tears flow over her own cheeks again. She felt weak and strong at the same time.

"Prokhor?" As he looked up, Deirdre saw that his eyes were clouded by sadness. She had never seen emotion of any kind in his eyes and it felt like a secret that would bind them together. "A-are you c-crying?"

"Deirdre… who hasn't got anything to cry about now?" She smiled weakly, as did he. "Sit down, please." He pointed to a chair next to his own, which Deirdre gladly sat down on. His proximity felt soothing.

"I c-came to ask… might I h-have some?" She knew she would never have asked if she hadn't been grief-stricken. Drinking seemed like a way out… and silently she wondered, while he was rummaging around and pouring her a glass, if that was why he had dug up the bottle himself. "Oh, Prokhor… my parents… my friends, my family… my brother and those on board are all that I have left…" She sobbed as tears ran over her cheeks. "Y-you must've had someone t-too… A wife, or family…"

"Only one niece, but she was raised by someone else. But I had friends, a home, and a place at the University… Deirdre, I had nothing but memories, yet they were as tangible as everything you lost." He looked at her, his expression pained. She felt the same pain.

"_Prokhor…_" was all she could whisper before the pain hit her hard. She took the glass she held and drank the entire contents in one deep swig, then winced as it burnt its way through her: she motioned for more. "Oh… you know… you care…" she said. She practically fell around him, hugging him tightly as compassion and grief took over her mind. He put one arm around her in turn, and gently stroked her hair with her other hand – something her father had often done when she was only a girl – which encouraged her, soothed her, filled her heart with something other than grief: profound and genuine adoration.

"I care, Deirdre, I care… I care more for you than I do for anyone else…" His words spoke of love – Deirdre did not pay it any heed. She felt intensely sad and intensely loved at the same time – and safe, safer than anywhere else. Their hug ended but the feelings didn't leave, and as they talked about their memories over increasing amounts of vodka, she felt all care left her. She was free with him.

"…And to think, I-if it were m-my father…" She didn't fear the thought of her father.

"Don't think like that, Deirdre – dear Deirdre – but think of it as an opportunity. Your father m-must have known. He insisted on your going…"

"Y-yes… he must've- must've known!" It was not a thought that made her happy, but it settled something in her heart. Her father had given her a chance while denying himself one. The conversation they had when she had handed in her application form came to her mind vividly. The look of determination in her father's eyes… it was determination to see her safe in space, with a longer future than he would have. She looked at the professor with a smile that didn't shake anymore. "Y-your friendship means s-s-so much…"

"I know. Your friendship means as much to me. …But you must be tired" She had indeed suppressed a yawn, but dreaded to fall asleep when she was sure to dream of the past. The professor saw and reacted: "Do you want me to escort you to your quarters?"

"P-please…" She nodded, and took the arm he reached gratefully. They walked though the empty halls, which were oddly quiet. Deirdre was not at all amazed: who was there on board that had no one to turn to? Even she… she knew she could always turn to Zakharov, who had proven not only a true friend, but one of infinite patience and wisdom at that.

"Everyone m-must be s-s-sleeping…" She sounded drunk – she had to be drunk after three glasses of the strongest stuff she ever had touched – and didn't feel embarrassed at all. The door to her quarters came closer. "P-prokhor, here… it's here…" She opened a box and punched in her security code: her door opened with the hissing sound she would normally love, but now… Now, it meant she would be on her own, subject to the memories that would haunt her in her sleep… Her room, messy as she had left it that morning, was cold. "S-should've cleaned but… meh, you don't care 'bout how messy it is, do you?" She saw him smile as broadly as he could and smiled back at him.

"Of course not. I'm used to order, but if you're used to chaos, then chaos is what you need. I won't mind it at all." Deirdre snickered softly as he looked around silently. "Where is your brother?" Those words seemed to hit her, and she frowned slightly.

"The captain put him in cryosleep already, said he was ma-making too much trouble… Can I…" She knew she couldn't ask. She knew he wouldn't say yes, because of… But yet, she felt like she _had _to ask…

"What is it you want, Deirdre? Please, I'll oblige." It hit her: he would say yes. She was drunk and lonely and in need of company, he wouldn't refuse.

"Stay here…" She saw him turn around incredulously, staring at her as if she had spoken some unforgivable profanity. She stammered as she explained: "I can't stand it alone, I needed someone to stay with me, and Santiago was unavailable…"

"I think I know who occupied her…" Zakharov grinned – Deirdre giggled slightly as she thought of the looks the captain and her friend had been exchanging.

"…And then I saw you sitting in your room and I thought 'why not' and… Please? For me?", she concluded in her most innocent and convincing tone of voice. Deirdre could nearly read the struggle that was taking place in Zakharov's mind from his eyes – undoubtedly he found it too much of a risk – but then he smiled her way.

"I will stay, if that is what you want. But where can I sleep then?"

"Well, there's a sofa in my bedroom… but if you're not comfortable with that…" Was she asking too much of him now?

"It's no problem, really." She was stunned and relieved at the same time: 'He cares for me, this much…' She went back into her bedroom to change, not needing to tell him that he should wait outside, and called for him as soon as she felt herself decently tucked in – or as decent as she could bear, for the sheets felt scratchy on her shoulders and she usually left them at her waist or so. As Zakharov entered, she could see that he felt uncomfortable and wondered if she was really definitely not asking too much of him. But then, as she sank back onto the pillow, she felt sleep overwhelm her and her mind fall into a blissful void…

She woke remarkably early and rose immediately, taking care not to wake the scientist that was still asleep. 'Oh, he's even kept his lab coat on…', Deirdre mused as she retreated behind a screen and dressed. She kept quiet while rummaging around for breakfast – or at least tried to. The sound of the closing cupboards resounded in her head and every clang of the metal spoon against the metal bowl as she ate her oatmeal was a gong-like note that reverberated through her tender brain. Zakharov awoke not too long after she had finished her breakfast, and she greeted him cheerily as he straightened his lab coat. She felt sorry immediately after as her voice – somehow amplified between her mouth and her ears – felt like a big red-hot needle in her head.

"You have a hangover", Zakharov stated the obvious. "I can fix that. Do you have any tomatoes?"

"…Maybe. Check the fridge." She pointed to a small rectangular metal cupboard. He rummaged around in it for a while. "And?"

"You've got them." He came up with a box of ripe tomatoes. "I'll juice them for you. Then, with a few herbs in it, you'll have something that will give you more energy." He shuffled around in her kitchen, using a few appliances here and there and finally presented her a blood red drink. "Here, drink it to the bottom." She downed it in one and couldn't help but notice that it immediately soothed her stomach plus tasted good.

"I can feel it working already. It really helps! …It's better than what I got after last time…", she added with a wry smile. Zakharov's smile slid off his face.

"I am a better man than Morgan. He only wanted to… Well, I don't."

"You want the same, only in a different way…" Deirdre said softly. She saw him look at her incredulously and realised he knew that Sean had eavesdropped. She smiled, but in her mind felt awful for having to tell the scientist that she just wasn't interested in him _that_ way. "Prokhor… I want us to be friends, because I do value your friendship above everything. I know you're different from Morgan in that you won't take what I won't give you."

"I would never dare. And your friendship means just as much to me. …I'll go now. I'll come by your lab later, one of my assistants needs a mouse for one of our tests."

"Why can't he come and get it?" she asked.

"Because I want the pleasure of seeing you today." She looked at him and now she was the one that was looking incredulously. But it was over in a split second and she smiled. Zakharov winked as he stepped outside, and Deirdre smiled. They would be friends; Zakharov would never let anything get in the way of that. She felt safe – he would be there for her no matter what.

She felt as if the next two weeks had passed like a jolt of thunder. The time had come to put the seven leaders of the mission in cryostasis – for the captain would remain awake and alternate shifts with Lal, the second-in-command. Deirdre had changed and was now standing in front of her cryotank (number 405) while Zakharov was standing a little ways from her at his cryotank. They both wore the suit that was required for the cryostasis: Deirdre thought it was uncomfortably tight and icy cold. But then again, her body would be icy cold by the time the cryotank had fully charged itself. A forty year long sleep… Deirdre saw Zakharov cast her an encouraging smile and she smiled back.

"You'll have pleasant dreams in there, Deirdre. Dreams of a new green planet, of a new life… and I'll be waiting when you wake. I'll help you make your dreams come true."

"I know you will. You dream the same, dream of science and of the advances the new world will bring us. I'll be wanting to see you first thing after I wake."

"I expect you'll see John first."

"Darn it. And here I was hoping to see the face of a genius first."

"Hey, I resent that!" Garland's voice drifted over the cryobay, tinged with laughter. Deirdre winked at him, which caused him to laugh out loud. "Okay… Cryotank four-zero-five, lieutenant commander doctor Deirdre Angelina Skye! … Deirdre, it's your turn. Have a nice sleep and I'll try to drag Prokhor over to you when you wake up." This was followed by a 'hmph!' from Zakharov.

"I don't need to be dragged, I'll come on my own accord." He turned to Deirdre with a smile. "Have a nice sleep, dream of the future and you'll awake safely into that future."

"See you in forty years…", she said as she stepped inside. The cryotechnicians attached the electrodes to her bare arms and legs and forehead. The electricity that prickled her forehead elicited a fatigue in her – she knew the drugs she had had to take were taking effect. She smiled as she drifted off into a long sleep, thinking of Zakharov's words.

"_I'll be waiting when you wake. I'll help you make your dreams come true…"_

_A/N: just a few quick remarks:_

_- I know I don't follow the exact character backgrounds and such, but I played Alpha Centauri long before I knew that those even existed._

_- Deirdre's quarters on the space ship are a fair distance from Zakharov's, it's their labs that are relatively close to each other._

_- and Deirdre just needed to escape. It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, really, with the drinking._


	5. Witness

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, I don't even think I want to. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

(Author: this is a partly joint chapter. First you get Zakharov's view on the post-cryo/pre-landing days, then Deirdre's view, and then after that a joint view (thus both Deirdre's and Zakharov's) on the landing process itself. These events include the seeding, the murder of the captain, the escape from the ship and the destruction of the ship.)

5) Witness

Zakharov awoke from the soft hissing sound as the door of his cryotank opened. He saw a grinning – and aged, he realised with a shock – captain Garland stand before him.

"Just wait a bit, Prokhor, the electric stims on your muscles will send some jolts through your body to make sure your muscles are ready to be used again. But you'll have to go straight to bed once you're out."

"And D-deirdre?" The electricity was uncomfortable, but he felt refreshed as he stepped out of the tank – though a bit stiff in the joints.

"Don't worry, she's due tomorrow in the afternoon. Tell you what, I'll get the captain to give you leave to go and see her when she wakes. You can escort her to her room then – but no hanky-panky!" Zakharov smiled.

"You don't need to worry about that, John." Zakharov rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know, just teasing ya…" Both men walked in the direction of the scientist's quarters. "Okay, now have a good night's sleep and I'll see you tomorrow morning in your lab. Oh, and don't go dreaming about beautiful female scientists just yet… Look out of your porthole." Zakharov obliged, though a bit hesitant. He blinked, rubbed out his eyes slowly, and then looked back.

He hadn't been mistaken. The two stars that were close were indubitably Alpha Centauri A and B; the planet gleaming in their doubled light was Chiron, and they were approaching it. "ETA should be in a few days. Oh, and by the way…", the captain said with a smile.

"Yes?" Zakharov looked back at Garland, who was by now smiling and pointing at a small calendar that was on the wall.

"Happy ninety-fifth birthday…" With a grin, the captain closed the door behind him. Zakharov smiled faintly. 'I'm ninety-five already… Lord, how time flies! I still look fifty-five, though. Oh, don't worry, Prokhor…', he told his mirror image as he started working on taking off the uncomfortable cryosuit, 'Deirdre will still like you. Definitely.' He put on his pyjamas and lied down with a smile. Closing his eyes, he saw her in her cryosuit – she had looked more feminine than any other woman he had ever seen. Sleep came easy, bringing along dreams that he hadn't enjoyed for a long time. Dreams that he welcomed.

The next afternoon, a nervous Zakharov was standing outside of the cryotank in which Deirdre was asleep. She looked innocent and peaceful – and beautiful, Zakharov added, more beautiful than ever.

"Starting reawakening process. Starting heating of cryofluid." The computer voice droned through the cryobay. Zakharov watched the ice turn into liquid again as heating elements flashed on. "Starting fluid drain away – initiating shower." The tank drained, then filled again, this time with water. Zakharov saw her image become blurry for a while before returning to normal. This time, Deirdre looked a bit more colourful. "Initiating neurostim. Awakening process begun. REM sleep ended. Deep sleep ended. Lieutenant commander Skye, this is your wakeup call." The computer messages followed each other rapidly, and Zakharov saw it happen – he snickered at the last message, recognising it as a piece of programming done by John. Her eyelids flickered for a moment, and then she opened them: the professor felt his heart leap as he looked into her green eyes again. The lid hissed open and cryotechnicians rushed in to release her of her breather and the electrodes on her forehead.

"Do not come out yet. They need to stim your muscles: they have become atrophied during the long sleep. You have to go to sleep as soon as you're out… but you can sleep in your own bed again." He smiled: she answered his smile – it didn't even flicker as the electricity flowed through her muscles. "Welcome back, Deirdre."

"It's good to be back, Prokhor. Thanks for keeping the promise, by the way… but you shouldn't have. You're probably needed elsewhere."

"I'm not. Do you need a hand?", he asked as he saw her stumble.

"Y-yes, thanks… How are things at my lab?" She looked up at him, and he thought for a moment.

"Your lab is doing great. The puppy, however, has died about twenty years ago. He was given a burial in one of the tanks. I believe it was the one with the white pine."

"…The white pine is my favourite.", Deirdre said after a while. "And Sean, is he up already?" At this, Zakharov had to laugh. He had seen Deirdre's brother already: the boy had taken a liking to hanging around in the labs, apparently, for his assistants tolerated his presence and his undying questions – and oddly enough, he had said some truly intelligent remarks as well.

"Sean has been awakened about a year or two before. He is always around my lab, or so my assistants tell me." He snickered. "Funny, I can see him become a scientist yet… ah, here we are!" He let go of Deirdre to allow her to input her security code and watched her room. It was miraculously clean all of a sudden. Zakharov saw a look of genuine amazement cross her features.

"Who… what?"

"Sean cleaned up for you. And he has a present for you, apparently…" Zakharov walked over to the table and picked up a box.

"Oh…" Deirdre walked over to him and took the box from him. "I know what this is. He shouldn't have…" She opened it. The box contained a snow globe, with a tree in it. Under the tree stood a woman and a boy who looked like they had just let go of each other's hands.

"What does it symbolize?" Zakharov was nonplussed.

"It means that he knows what he wants.", she stated. "And combined with what you told me… he wants to be a scientist. Whose lab does he spend most time in?"

"Mine." Deirdre looked up, and Zakharov smiled. "If it's what he wants… But now, Deirdre, you have to look outside." As she made her way to her porthole, Zakharov couldn't help but notice that her green cryosuit – green for scientists – suited her very well. He smiled a devious smile as he saw her sway her hips. 'She is such a beauty…', he thought: then she gasped and Zakharov walked to her. "That, my dear Deirdre, is Chiron – our future. John said that we'd arrive in a few days."

"I look forward to it… oh, hey, the continents have an odd red tinge from here. Could that be the light?"

"I don't know… I suppose it could…" Zakharov removed the hand that he had put on her shoulder as she turned around. He actually hadn't seen the red tinge himself because he was awakened in the evening and the dual sun had not shed any light on the side of Chiron he could see.

"Well, if you don't know, neither do I. You're the optics expert. Actually, you're the expert in just about everything… Oh, I'm so tired…" She did not suppress the yawn.

"I'll leave you to sleep. Will you be allright?" He was worried.

"Yes. Thanks for the good care, Prokhor. I can't thank you enough, it means the world to me." Again, Zakharov's heart leapt.

"I don't need any thanks, Deirdre, your smile is enough…", he said softly as he walked out the door and in the direction of the labs. He felt his heart working overtime: he felt _young_. 'Odd how the years are not only not apparent to others, but also not apparent to me…', he mused as the doors to the labs hissed open.

* * *

Deirdre faintly heard the sound of rushing water. Then she felt a prickling sensation go through her drowsy brain. She blinked as the images in front of her flickered and faded – and then Zakharov's face came into view. 'Is this a dream? …Prokhor kept his promise…'

The lid went off with a hiss and cryotechnicians rushed to her and immediately removed the electrodes from her forehead.

"Do not come out yet. They need to stim your muscles: they have become atrophied during the long sleep. You have to go to sleep as soon as you're out… but you can sleep in your own bed again." She smiled, even as the electricity coursed through her muscles, which ached. He smiled back and approached. "Welcome back, Deirdre"

"It's good to be back, Prokhor. Thanks for keeping the promise, by the way… but you shouldn't have. You're probably needed elsewhere." She felt a bit guilty for making him promise now that she remembered that he would have duties of his own.

"I'm not. Do you need a hand?" She had stumbled a bit, but recovered fairly quickly. Her muscles still ached with every step – and here he was offering her help.

"Y-yes, thanks… How are things at my lab?" She was curious, even though she knew her assistants must've taken the utmost care of her lab. Would her Skye vines (she had named them after her family name, and added "alexandrii" as a subgenus in remembrance of her father) still be thriving? Zakharov thought for a moment, apparently.

"Your lab is doing great. The puppy, however, has died about twenty years ago. He was given a burial in one of the tanks. I believe it was the one with the white pine." Deirdre paused on that for a moment. The puppy had been cute and cuddly when she had left it, but forty years, even in a severely slowed biorhythm, was too long for a dog to survive.

"…The white pine is my favourite.", she decided finally, choosing to be glad that he had lived a long life before passing away. Then, her thoughts turned almost instinctively to her brother. "And Sean, is he up already?" As she mentioned her brother, she heard Zakharov laugh – it was the first time he had ever laughed as fully as that, and she marvelled at the warmth with which he laughed.

"Sean has been awakened about a year or two before. He is always around my lab, or so my assistants tell me." He snickered as she shook her head, not believing her ears. "Funny, I can see him become a scientist yet… ah, here we are!" Indeed, they had reached her room: Zakharov let go of her for a while to allow her to input her security code. The door slid open and Deirdre was confronted with… 'Oh my god, where's my mess of a room I left behind?'

"Who…what?", she managed to utter. She looked incredulous, or so she deducted from Zakharov's explanation.

"Sean cleaned up for you. And he has a present for you, apparently…" She watched the taller scientist walk over to a marvellously empty table and pick up a box with her name on it. Deirdre looked at the box once and knew what was in it. She had gotten a box exactly like that one from her father, with the instruction to keep it and cherish it until she knew what she was going to do with her life.

"Oh… I know what this is. He shouldn't have…", she said as she walked over to him and took the box from him: she opened it carefully and took out the snow globe that was inside. The woman and child inside it looked just like they had done in hers. It seemed so long ago that she had given her father back her own globe with the message that she wanted to become a biologist, like him – yet at that particular moment, it seemed to her to be not so distant a memory.

"What does it symbolize?" Zakharov's question and the blankness of his expression slightly amused her.

"It means that he knows what he wants.", she stated as she turned to him again, putting the snow globe down onto her desk. "And combined with what you told me… he wants to be a scientist. Whose lab does he spend most time in?"

"Mine." Deirdre saw him smile as she looked at him. "If that's what he wants… But now, Deirdre, you have to look outside." She walked over to the porthole. Feeling Zakharov's eyes upon her all the way, she felt very aware that she still had the green cryosuit on: but she also had to admit she liked the feeling of knowing that men found her attractive. She swayed her hips a bit more as she crossed the last few metres. One look outside and she gasped. There lay the planet that had been in her dreams for the past four decades, shining in the light shed on it by the two suns of Alpha Centauri. "That, my dear Deirdre," spoke Zakharov as he put a hand on her shoulder and leaned over to her a bit to look out himself, "is Chiron – our future. John said that we'd arrive in a few days."

"I look forward to it…", Deirdre smiled, and then she saw something odd. "Oh, hey, the continents have an odd red tinge from here. Could that be the light?"

"I don't know… I suppose it could…" Zakharov removed his hand from her shoulder and Deirdre felt cold rush in again. She smiled almost ruefully as she turned around.

"Well, if you don't know, neither do I. You're the optics expert. Actually, you're the expert in just about everything… Oh, I'm so tired…" She yawned before she knew she did. He stepped towards the door tentatively but hesitant.

"I'll leave you to sleep. Will you be allright?" 'He's worried, how kind of him…', Deirdre thought and smiled.

"Yes. Thanks for the good care, Prokhor. I can't thank you enough, it means the world to me." Her smile broadened and Zakharov smiled as well, clearly at ease now.

"I don't need any thanks, Deirdre, your smile is enough…" He went outside, leaving Deirdre to rest, which she set to work to do right away. After having raised the temperature a few degrees, she put on her pyjamas – the cryosuit ended up in her waste bin – and crawled into her bed. As she was arranging her sheets, her eyes fell on the small calendar that she had in her bedroom: its numbers indicated July 26th of the year 2099. Deirdre put her head down on the pillow.

'I'm… old… I must be sixty-six now… oh well, I still look twenty-six…' She thought of the professor, and of how he looked. 'I don't know how he manages it, but he actually looked _younger_, about fifty. I know he's older than that.' She smiled. 'Never mind his age though… he's a genius and he's my closest friend yet…'

* * *

The work went by as usual for the crew of the USS Unity. The landing pods were being stocked and the only thing that they were waiting for was the correct position. The captain would shut down the engines and input the seeding command to 'seed' the planet with extra supplies and such, after which the landing could begin. In the science labs, everything was quiet since there was no more equipment present and thus nothing else to do. The crew spent most of their time chatting and killing time by playing games. Zakharov and Deirdre frequently played chess: and, though Deirdre had been good before cryostasis, Zakharov had to admit that she had become better.

"You win again." He was baffled: it was the third time she'd won in a row. "I'm amazed. Your skill seems to have increased exponentially over the past few days."

"Nah, I've just studied your techniques. If I were to play against Sean…" At the mention of his name, the boy looked up: Deirdre smiled at him and continued. "Now that would be interesting. Sean is much better than I am, and so are you."

"Don't bother…", said Sean as he rose from the ground. "I've won every game we've played yet." At the mention of that fact, Zakharov blushed and Deirdre laughed mildly.

"Don't tease the professor, Sean… he has pride too, you know." Zakharov's blush had already vanished.

"It's all right, Deirdre… I don't mind, I'm not a sore loser. But would you-" He was interrupted by the speakers, from which the voice of captain Garland issued.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our final hours aboard the USS Unity have arrived. The engines will be shut down and the seeding will begin. Stand by for evacuation and landing." The intercom bleeped off, and Deirdre and Zakharov rose.

"Well, now we just have to wait for the seeding to begin…" They walked over to the nearest porthole and looked out. The sight of Chiron, so close, glowing in the light of the twin sun, slowly passed underneath them. Deirdre smiled and stood.

"Why are the engines still on?", Sean suddenly asked. Deirdre and Zakharov looked at him, then out of the porthole again. They, too, saw it then: the bright white flame of anoxic fire that the engines breathed out.

"Sean's right, the engines should've been shut down by now… I'll contact Jay, see if there's something wrong…" Deirdre walked over to her desk and pushed a few buttons. "Jay? Jay, do you read me? …Jay, speak to me…" She turned around to face Prokhor and Sean. "No answer. Sean, you should go to Gareth and the others. They'll probably be at the docking bay." The younger boy nodded and ran off, leaving the door open. Deirdre sighed and turned to the professor. "Prokhor… I'm going to find John, I need to know if there's something wrong, if he needs help…"

"I'm going with you, Deirdre." Zakharov walked along with her. "We should go to command post first. Deirdre, can you go look for Lal? If something's wrong, he can help the captain best – they've been alternating duties for forty years."

"Right, I'll see if I can find him…" Deirdre rushed off through one corridor as Zakharov took the other. He ran, not looking left or right, not perceiving the faces of those that came outside to see what the commotion was about. At the command bay, he stopped. The door was closed, and appeared to be locked.

"Come on, open up…", Zakharov muttered as he struggled with the door, forcing it open slowly. Curse after curse followed in every language he could use as the door jammed halfway and refused to move any further, forcing the tall scientist to practically crawl through. He managed to get inside of the dark control room, and immediately noticed someone lying on the floor – lying quite still in what appeared to be…

The light flashed on, and Zakharov's worst fears were confirmed.

"John!" He rushed over and sat down beside the captain. He tried to rouse him, but to no avail. He bowed his head, despair washing over him like a tidal wave over the coastline. He heard the sound of running and looked up. The door that had refused to move was now wide open. Deirdre came in first, followed by Pravin Lal.

"John! Oh, my god… Prokhor, is he…?" The scientist could only nod as he looked up at the two: Deirdre immediately sagged, while Lal only bowed his head in the same way Zakharov had only seconds before.

"I'll start the seeding…", Zakharov said, his voice tinged by something that made it sound hoarse and constricted.

"I'll try and shut down the engines, but first I'll tell the people to escape." Zakharov inputted a few commands into the main computer, which responded immediately: a metallic female voice sounded in the command post.

"Seeding initiated. Seeding will last approximately four minutes, delay landing sequence accordingly. Good luck." Meanwhile, Lal inputted a few commands into the other computer, then cursed.

"Whoever killed the captain, did so for a reason. I can't shut the engines down. I'll try to eject the fuel… but first, evacuation…" He touched a few buttons on an interface next to him and then spoke loud and clear: "Ladies and gentlemen, there are some problems which require our immediate evacuation. Please proceed to the nearest landing pod, and do not panic. The situation is serious but not out of our control. The evacuation is merely a precaution. One commander or lieutenant commander per pod, each of which should input the landing code they receive on their commlink after seeding has ended." He turned the intercom off and turned to Zakharov. "Take her to a landing pod. Please. I'll try to eject the fuel, but I'll stop my attempt when the seeding is done." He was already frantically inputting strings of code into the computer while Zakharov picked up Deirdre from where she had crumbled and helped her to the landing bay.

"Prokhor… no, no…" She couldn't think or act coherently, yet her feet seemed to move on their own now that she was aided by her friend. "He can't… no way…"

"It's true. But he would have wanted you to go to the planet. Please, be strong for now. Mourn on Planet." They arrived at the landing pod where Sean motioned for them to enter.

"Prokhor, come with me… I need your support…" Deirdre looked up at him desperately, her eyes filled with tears – and she looked into eyes that were as tearful as her own.

"I can't. Only one commander per pod. But Deirdre… If I do not make it…" He looked at her intensely, his eyes showing profound love. "Deirdre… I…" He moved to her swiftly, capturing her in his arms, and then he kissed her. Both of them forgot all around them one blissful second: Zakharov abandoned his worries as all of the love and affection he felt for Deirdre automatically poured out of his heart and soul into that one kiss, while Deirdre felt her heart stop at once and her sorrow fly out of her mind as a sparrow out into a brilliant blue sky.

And then they let go.

"I love you, Deirdre Skye, with all my heart and soul. If I do not make it, think of me. I will always be with you. Always." He pushed her inside while she was still dumbstruck by the kiss and closed the door, after signalling to Sean to input the code that would be given to her if she couldn't. The boy nodded. As Zakharov walked away from the pod that was now gone from view, he felt the impact of what he did hit him. He didn't even notice someone running towards him.

"Professor! Professor Zakharov! We must escape! The seeding is almost completed!" Zakharov shook his head. He couldn't move – his feet refused, his mind was numb… And then he felt something hit him hard, and he blacked out…

Deirdre came to her senses when the ship was already heading for Chiron. She looked around, dazed, and then saw Sean.

"W-what happened?"

"The professor brought you here. He told me that I had to input the code you would receive. One of your assistants helped me. We've evacuated." He moved closer. "And the professor kissed you, Dee…" Deirdre felt her lips tentatively, and when she did so, she clenched her other hand, feeling something hard press into the palm of her hand. She opened her hand to see a small silver ring rest on the palm of her hand.

"He…" She heard him say it again in her mind – _"I love you, Deirdre Skye, with all my heart and soul. If I do not make it, think of me. I will always be with you. Always."_ – and nodded slowly. "How many are there on board?", she asked Sean, knowing she'd have to concentrate on the matter at hand, which was surviving – surviving to see him again.

"One hundred, counting you and me. Plus a dozen construction bots and some other bots that'll come in handy." Sean grinned. "I helped assemble a few of them."

"When will we land? ...Gareth?", she addressed the one that had a clear view of the planet below them.

"It shouldn't be too long... brace yourselves, we're going into the atmosphere in five minutes!" Deirdre looked again at the ring and wondered if Zakharov really feared that he wouldn't arrive on Chiron. If that was so... she dared not think of it. Instead, she put the ring tentatively on her index finger and sat down slowly, waiting for the descent to proceed and meanwhile falling into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

_A/N: I would like to apologise for not posting last week, when I was supposed to. My fiancé/boyfriend invited me to stay over at his place and since I love him more than I love the universe... How could I say no?_

_So, in order to make up, this special chapter. And a special thanks to my second reviewer, who had some pretty good points. It may be hard to read sometimes, but I found it rather refreshing to write all situations from two different perspectives. Besides, the story will now take place on Chiron, where - obviously - they are separated... Poor them... Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the chapter... and until next update..._


	6. Face

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, owning myself is difficult enough. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

6) Face.

Zakharov woke up to a harsh desert landscape, of which he had a full view from within the tent in which he lay. Rising slowly, tentatively putting his hand on the lump on the back of his head, he wondered how he got there. He only remembered one of his assistants urging him to come aboard...

"You've come round! Finally!" It was that same assistant. Zakharov struggled to remember his name.

"How did I get here?" He settled for not trying too hard to remember as a sharp pain coursed through him. The assistant apparently had seen him wince, for he did so as well.

"I'm sorry to hit you, professor... but you seemed dazed, and I had to bring you here... But, well, it must've been difficult to see Doctor Skye leave..."

"Deirdre..." Zakharov stared off into the distance, his concerns now dwelling elsewhere. He saw her image before him and sighed. 'You will be in my dreams forever if you survive or not, Deirdre...', he thought before turning his attention back to the assistant, who had by then adopted a telltale grin. "Well, where are we?" Irritation resounded in his voice, even though he hadn't meant to sound as grumpy as he did.

"In some kind of impact crater - the construction bots are working as we speak. We need yet to name our forming city and landing site. We, um, were hoping you would do that for us..." The hesitation in the young man's voice was not feigned, and Zakharov blinked. He pondered for a moment, then smiled softly as he saw a small robot zoom by carrying an immense piece of rock.

"And who is this 'we' you speak of?"

"Well... us, all hundred of us, professor. We look up to your knowledge. We know you can lead us to success in our colonization of Chiron - and our survival." Fervor and determination had now entered in the younger man's voice. 'Undoubtedly he has ideals', Zakharov thought - the thought of which touched him. "That is, if you want to lead us..." The assistant looked at him tentatively. The professor felt elated, and he made a decision within the blink of an eye.

"I will lead you. I'll speak to everyone this evening, tell them to gather."

Evening quickly fell, by which time Zakharov had already looked over the terrain. Below them, down what seemed a quite steep slope, lay an immense crater - 'an impact crater perhaps', Zakharov had thought as he saw the magnitude of it, 'this would mean precious minerals can be found down there!' - and next to them was vacant land for as far as the eye could see. At least, to the west; to the east, a vast red forest expanded towards the horizon. However, the forest seemed not to be a source of either problems or interest to the people, and Zakharov paid it no heed. He was now looking at the gathering of people in front of him. They had assembled between the tents, with their half-finished city on the background - about ten buildings in all, complete with glass, furniture and all convenience the planet had to offer for the moment - and with hope in their eyes. Zakharov rose to the "stage" - a piece of rock one of the bots had tried to loosen but couldn't. He stood silently, waiting patiently for the talk to die down. A baby cried, which startled the calm scientist - 'A baby?' - but only for a moment. He smiled as everyone looked at him and felt at home. Was it really forty years from the time that students had gaped at him from their seats in an auditorium?

"People of Earth, we came here with a mission. We came to colonize, to prepare our race for decimation by Time - who would employ the merciless laws of physics against us. We came willingly and without regrets. Yet, when Earth fell to ruin right behind our backs - as soon as we had left her, even! - we did not leave our mission. Instead, we altered it. We no longer came to colonize, we came to survive. We no longer wanted to defend ourselves against extinction, we wanted to evade that fate altogether. A much bigger burden rested on our shoulders: we are the only ones left. We, that had doubts in choosing to leave our families, found our relatives and loved ones torn from us by cruel rulers and blind destruction. We, that once prided upon our achievements and our ultimate selection to be part of this mission, were humbled and reduced to the last ones. We were adrift, and we clung to what we still had. We will continue to do so." He breathed in deeply, allowing his words to seep in before continuing. "Though you look up to me so, never think that I am more because of my rank or status. We are all the last ones. Many of you address me as 'professor', yet I am a mere academician, a person that chose learning over profession - as such, I see the value that everything has in their right place in society. I value the learning of science more, but I see the need and merit of learning an art or a profession. I went to university, but life itself is one great University, filled with lessons to learn and achievements for every individual.

Let us then all choose what we want to learn for ourselves, and let the children we have and will get in the future, do so too. Let us choose the path of wisdom, the path of learning, the path that many of the leaders of our demised mother world had better devoted themselves to. Let us do our best to ensure that we are not truly the last ones... and let us do that from our city." He stepped down, into the crowd, which split open to allow him to pass. As he advanced, Zakharov heard many start to applaud and cheer. By the time he had reached his own tent, the people were shouting: "Long live our academician! Long live the University!" He shook his head - he hadn't meant it that way, after all - but he understood the people. They had a leader, a purpose and a goal: they needed nothing else. Well, perhaps a city... but that would probably not take much longer, he considered as he looked outside and saw the bots hurrying to and fro.

University logs / private logs / P.L. Zakharov, academician - entry 13/09/2101

_This is a world truly filled with much wonders and horrors at the same time. It is today exactly one year ago that the first mind worm was spotted. Today, we have had the report of the first non-base fight with one of their boils (victory for the University and cause for rejoice, for the flamethrowers we have equipped our scouting parties with have proven successful). The crater will officially be named 'Garland Crater' today - in honor of John, our deceased captain and my close friend. John, may your spirit linger._

_My scouting parties have assured me that the fungal forest is passable, though it is difficult to manoeuvre and an ideal spot to be ambushed by psy-attacks of mind worm boils that seem to reside in the fungus. Sometimes I get the feeling the mind worms can pinpoint the scouting party's location - it's an eerie thought, and I tend to repress it as soon as it comes to mind._

_The city, which the people insist on calling 'University Base', has finally become a pleasant place to live, and the first new building to be inaugurated was a school. People often ask my advice, and they respect my authority even though I do not ask them to follow me. I've never asked them to follow me. Yet they do, and I lead them as best as I can._

_Deirdre is a constancy in my mind. I think that she has not left my dreams for even one of the past three hundred and eighty days. I welcome her in my head every morning and in my arms every night. I hope she has survived, so I can see her again, maybe hold her again - one fleeting moment was not enough. it can never be enough. But I also find myself hoping secretly that she is beyond anyone's reach, so I can still dream that she loves me instead of facing the reality..._

University logs / private logs / P.L. Zakharov, academician - entry 04/01/2103

_I wonder at my reflection often these days. The doctors claim they have never seen a case like mine before. I seem to have stopped aging... but this is perhaps only an illusion. I look fifty-five, they say._

_Our number has grown again, and we are now about two to three hundred. The number of newborns has stagnated somewhat, however, so we hope that our day-care facilities are under less strain than they are now soon. However, I have come to find the new Universitans subject to affection of the entire community - even I myself find pleasant thoughts seep into my mind after peering in yet another cradle. Hope lives through these infants, one can guess. I do not find it unpleasant at all._

_...I still think and dream of her every day. She moves smoothly from dream to daydream and back - and she, too, hasn't aged. I can't help it, I love her. Even if I found out she is dead tomorrow, I would still love her as deeply._

_Good night, Deirdre..._

"Academician!" The woman that came running into the research laboratory was tall and slender, and Zakharov immediately recognised her as assistant Tamar. He smiled as he abandoned his work and looked at her.

"We've cracked the code. We now know the secrets of the human brain." She looked immensely proud of the achievement, and with good reason. The research about the use of the brain was one that would bring a tremendous amount of new research opportunities with it. The road to understanding the human nature more fully was now wide open. "Oh, and there are some scout leaders who wish to see you. They say it's urgent."

"Where are they?" Zakharov had become used to the frequent reports the leaders of the scouting teams he sent out gave him. This particular one seemed no less ordinary.

"They're in the meeting hall, Academician."

"Good, I'll find it on my own. Carry on with your research. What are you now concentrating on, Tamar?"

"Industrial mechanics. Our engineers are working around the clock to devise a working economic model." She smiled wrily, as if she knew her beloved 'Academician' didn't put that much faith in economy and industry. "Have a nice day, Academician."

"You too, Tamar...", he muttered on his way out. He passed several corridors now teeming with excitement over their first milestone on the path of learning - 'their', for Zakharov spent as much time as anyone else in the research labs and in the libraries and schools. Doors hissed open and closed behind him. It was a well-oiled machine, his society, and he liked it that way. It was science in its purest form.

"Academician!", the men gathered sprang from their chairs. Zakharov nodded and they relaxed a bit. "We have news from the eastern border. Somewhere beyond the great fungus forest seems to be another city!"

"A-another city?" Zakharov was nonplussed at first, then amazement turned into excitement as he realised the full meaning of it. "Other survivors?"

"Seems so. Their city also exhibited signs of re-used Unity materials. We could see it from a hill overlooking the forest. But what's else... they had an insignia. A kind of globe in light blue..."

"A globe? Like the UN insignia?"

"Yes, sir - um, Academician." Zakharov pondered for a while, then smiled.

"It must be Pravin Lal. Find out if you can establish contact with him."

"Academician, we deserve an insignia of our own as well, I think." One of the soldiers hesitantly spoke. "We may not be many, but we're an established city with a leader and troops of our own. Besides, if there are other survivors, they'll probably have thought of an insignia as well..." Zakharov thought about it for a while, then nodded.

"An insignia we need. I'll hold a contest and award a prize to the one that gives us the best and simplest design. Er... dismissed...", he said as the men stood about awkwardly. He felt like he'd never get used to his status. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

'If there's more survivors, maybe..."

* * *

Deirdre surveyed the construction works. Several small construction bots zoomed past her at great speed despite the impossibly large pieces of stone they were carrying; men and women were struggling to start planting the seeds they had had on board. Deirdre smiled as she thought of the plants that had once lived - only to produce these precious seeds. Her smile broadened as Sean shot past her, carrying a broken construction bot with him to his tent in their makeshift base. It had been two days since Planetfall and their city was already nearing completion - technology was a wonder, though a dangerous one.

"Lady Skye?" A girl tugged on her sleeve - it was Eliza. She had come to know the girl very well over the course of the work. She was amiable, just as she had been at her age. Deirdre caught herself thinking that that was only fifteen years ago - the forty year sleep had to account for something.

"Yes, Eliza?"

"What will we name the city?" It was an intelligent question, showing the girl's observational skills and sense of logic. She would make a good scientist, though not in her own field. Probably an engineer or information specialist. Despite all that, Deirdre had to laugh.

"We'll see. When it's finished and we're going to live in it, I'll assemble all the others and ask them what the city should be named." She smiled.

"I think you should name it, Lady Skye. You've done so much for us - you're the one that made the seeds and all..." At the mention of 'Lady', Deirdre frowned. She couldn't get used to being seen as a leader when there were so many others that were undoubtedly more capable to lead them. But even they listened to her words as if they were divine revelation. She understood that they needed a figurehead in these times of hardship, but wondered why they had chosen her.

"Eliza, one day you'll see that I only made sure that the original seeds ended up in the earth, got enough water and fertilizer and were constantly nice and cosy."

"Well... maybe that's what God did with us. He made sure we found another Earth, that we got enough food and breathable air, and that we could make a city. And I think that God sent you, Lady Skye, to make sure that we won't waste away. You look after us like you've looked after the seeds."

"You really think that?" Deirdre was dumbstruck - flattered and awed at the same time by the girl's beliefs. "Well, God made us all equal, so you don't need to call me 'Lady Skye'. Call me Deirdre."

"...Can I call you 'Lady Deirdre'?", the girl asked after a moment of hesitation. Deirdre smiled as she knew the girl must believe in her leadership skills as much as in her view of Providence.

"Sure you can. Now, let's go and see if we can help out."

From atop the highest building, Deirdre looked over the city and its surroundings. The buildings had become slender and tall, like poplars. The roads laid out between them looked out of place, though it had a kind of odd allure to it as well. The dull desert-like landscape of yellow rock extended for miles, occasionally broken by large patches of what seemed to be gigantic fungus fields. Beyond a few ledges, she could even see the ocean, a small patch of deep blue in the dull yellow. She then looked behind her. One day, on that exact location where the pod had touched Chiron's soil, a forest of pine would stand, and a memorial stone remembering Earth's tragedy and Chiron's promises...

"Lady Deirdre, they're waiting for you in the grand hall." Eliza followed her at all times, like a headstrong puppy. Deirdre was endeared most of the time - including now.

"Allright. I'll come down. But I still don't know what to tell them. What can I do?"

"Lady Deirdre, you're smart. You'll think of something. Think of what I said." With that, she turned around and left, leaving Deirdre to follow her. Her heart was pounding about halfway up in her throat: she had never been good at controlling her nerves. Sean stood guard outside the hall.

"Calm down, Dee," he said with a small grin, "the people in there'll think you're scared or something. You're a leader now, you've gotta show confidence."

"Thanks, I'll remember that...", she muttered as she entered the hall. The very moment the door opened, people stood, making Deirdre feel even more awkward.

"Er, please sit down..." She smiled as she saw Eliza wave from her seat between her parents. At least someone who had faith in her... and probably the only one...

"I really don't know what I should say... you all show so much confidence in me, yet I did nothing special. I'm clueless as to how I deserved your trust. But I'll try to live up to your expectations.

Speaking of expectations... a little girl told me how she firmly believes me to be sent by Providence to take care of all of us. To be honest, I don't know if that's true. I've never believed much in Providence. Maybe I've played too much God with my plants." Laughter in the crowd. Everyone had seen how passionate she was about 'her' plants, and everyone knew what miracles she had achieved. "But I'm no god. If I were, I would've saved Earth..." A silence fell over the crowd as the dark cloud of Earth's fate was remembered. "What happened there was the ultimate sign of humankind's degeneration. Religious zealots would say we carry within us the seeds of sin and that we sow disaster wherever we go. But I prefer to think we carry the seeds of hope with us and that we can bring light and warmth to any place whenever we want to. We may not forget about what happened to our home - what humankind did to its home. Such cruelty can never be done again. Even in ancient times, to honor one's mother was the highest virtue. But we've defiled ours, hurt her - and eventually killed her. We are now given a second chance. Though this planet may never be our mother, it will be our children's mother and that of their children. We must not throw away this second chance. We are, after all, stepdaughters to this world - we will not be its heirs though she will feed us and we will care for her.

Once, our home world was called 'Gaia' and honoured as a goddess. Already, many among us name this planet 'Planet' and revere her as a bringer of hope. This city must strengthen that. The bond we will form with Planet will be one of reverence and hopefulness. If we want to survive, we must rely on the goodwill of Planet and its indigenous inhabitants.

Are you all prepared to stand by these principles?" Men and woman alike rose from their chairs to cheer her words. "If you will live by these principles, if you will share with me both the memory of Gaia and the admiration towards Planet, then I will lead you." Her heart leapt when she heard no protest. From the crowd, Eliza gave her the thumbs up before joining in the cries.

"Long live our Lady! Hail to the Stepdaughters from Gaia!"

Gaia's Landing - private files - Lady Deirdre Skye - diary, 01/10/2101

_Only one year ago, we experienced our first encounter with the first of Planet's unwilling children. The Mindworms, so called for their ability to enter the minds of us humans and implant in them a fear so profound that we can no longer act efficiently. The soldiers' high morale and their willingness to die defending our city are what keep us safe. For that, we can not sufficiently express our gratitude._

_On the occasion of the first full year on Planet, a lush forest was being planted. The people surprised me with a plaque that read "We left our mother Gaia with grief, and when we were gone her other children most cruelly killed her. Though we treat our new mother Planet with care and respect, we may never forget those that died along with our true mother. Our kind destroyed Earth, but we will never allow ourselves to harm Chiron." - Eliza's words and Eliza's idea. She is slowly but surely becoming my aide and closest friend yet. She is now fifteen - not counting the cryosleep - and is very aware of the attention she gets from Sean. My poor brother will never know what he's in for..._

_My thoughts wander to my friends as often as my hand wanders to the ring around my index finger. My only hope is that Jay's death was swift and merciful. As for Prokhor and Corazon - and the others, of course - I pray every day that they had as much luck as we had. ...In my dreams, I get the distinct feeling I'm being held and comforted. I never see who it is that holds me and soothes my mind, but I don't need to see because I know it already. Every night, we part like we did more than a year ago..._

Gaia's Landing - private files - Lady Deirdre Skye - diary, 10/01/2103

_How easy for two people to fall in love when all they see is each other? Eliza and Sean caught in a hug this afternoon. I was wondering where my self-appointed spokeswoman had gone off to and then I found them in some hallway of the living area. I'll have to speak a few words with Sean before he gets carried away, I have enough children on my hands as it is. The babyboom has subsided somewhat, bringing our number to around two hundred and fifty. We've almost doubled in population in three years' time, which would be odd - were it not that many of us are different now._

_Cryosleep has had an odd effect on me. My age has become indeterminate, or so doctors tell me. They want to observe me closer, but I've already told them that I want to live in peace. Imagine some over-eager anatomy student disturbing me in the shower. Ugh._

_Another unsettling dream this night. The usual embrace, farewell, kiss thing. But now the sorrow of losing my friends and being alone. The horror of finding them devoured by mindworms. Unspeakable things. I woke up, my nightgown clingy because of my sweating. I hate to admit it, but I wouldn't accept their deaths. Especially Prokhor's for some odd reason._

_The purpose of it all eludes me, but I have the feeling the dreams want to convey me something. Why do I dream of the past?_

Deirdre placed the book back onto the shelf and turned around. The children were pooling around her, anxious to hear the next story though they knew they would not hear it that day.

"Tomorrow, Eliza will read to you about space. I'll see you in a week."

"Bye-bye, Deedee!", they all said in unison. She insisted that the children call her with her first name and settled for their variant of it. Though she didn't know all of them by name, she knew them by face and was delighted every time she looked in at the nursery school.

"Lady Skye!" A mother come to pick up her child ran up to her. "The recon troops you sent out have returned. They await you in the great hall, they say it's important news that you should hear..."

"I'll go over there. Thanks, Maria." She had grown accustomed to referring to the people with their first names. If she knew them, at least. Rushing to the great hall, she smelled the wondrous scents that were what made her city - the achievement of so many people including herself - her home. People greeted her in the streets, all of them calling her Lady. She was still as flattered by the title as she was that first day, she loved the fact that it sounded ancient and yet modern.

In the meeting hall, she found three men - the commanders of the recon troops she had sent out - already waiting for her patiently. As she entered, they rose from their chair.

"M'lady", they said in unison, and Deirdre smiled.

"Sit down, please, and tell me what news you bring that is so important."

"Two things, Lady. Grant and I have found an ideal spot to set up another colony. The colony pod vehicle can now be made operative."

"This spot, where is it?"

"To the south, m'lady," spoke Grant, "near the ocean. It has abundant minerals in its soil and the ground is fertile, assuring our crops a speedy growth."

"Very well, I'll dispatch the colony pod at once. Can I count on your troops to escort it, commanders Grant and Lewis?" As both men nodded, she turned to the third one. "Commander Shirokami, you have news as well, I take it?"

"Yes, Lady. My troops were scouting the lands to the north. We had been ambushed by mind worms twice and had successfully deflected their attacks and decimated them - which boosted the morale of my men, I must say. Then, on the fifth day, we spotted one of their boils. We were able to attack it before they noticed us. But it never came to a fight, Lady."

"How so?" Deirdre was all ears: she knew that the mind worms were relentless in their attacks and wondered what could have possibly made them stand their ground.

"One of my men from the front of the line of attack suddenly told us not to do anything. He stepped up to the boil and seemed to contemplate something. And instead of attacking us, the mind worms trooped around him!"

"Did they..."

"I still live, Lady, and so does the boil." The man stood in the doorway to the meeting hall, and at his feet wriggled dozens of mind worms. Deirdre gasped in horror. "Relax, Lady, they won't harm you. In fact, these mind worms think highly of you. After all, you care for their planet as if it were a precious artifact." He smiled.

"This has to be researched." Deirdre could only come to that one conclusion. "If there is a way to communicate with the mind worms, then we could evade many conflicts... and we'd lose less to their attacks."

"As long as no harm comes to them, I'll gladly allow it.", the man said with a smile. "They have connected with me, and it would grieve me to see them hurt. Especially by one of us."

"We won't harm the mind worms, rest assured - we have enough specimens for that. But this... this could mean a whole new turn in the history of humanity!"


	7. Rediscover

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, owning myself is difficult enough. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

7) Rediscover

'There is no denying it anymore', thought Zakharov as he walked through the corridors of the newest building in his city, 'I've definitely stopped aging. I still look the same as when I came out of cryosleep.' His thoughts came to a rather abrupt end when he took a turn and bumped into someone.

"E-excuse me, Academician." The timid voice of Tamar, who had by now become a trustworthy colleague and somewhat of a friend - though she insisted on calling him 'Academician' whenever they met.

"What brings you out here? Wasn't your research group placed in one of the older buildings?"

"Yes, but we need a construction bot. Assistant Nilsson said he can reprogram them, so we thought it would be worth a shot... but all the bots seem to have miraculously disappeared."

"Hmm, I find that hard to believe, Tamar. But I'll go see the engineers and ask them to build you a new one - with the new metals that we mine, we can build about a thousand." The assistant's face brightened. Whenever Zakharov went to see the engineers, he was sure to make them uncomfortable one way or another - a dislike they shared. She tailed him when he went to the building across the street, where the industrial research was being carried out. The engineers that saw him cross the hallways to the robotics laboratories shuddered. They respected their leader more than anyone else, but feared his moody disposition towards them more than anything. He nodded at them and was friendly, however, surprising even Tamar as she wondered what made him so gentle to them.

"Ah, here we are... Good day, gentlemen! I need another construction bot for some tests and was wondering whether you could make me one ASAP." The engineers gaped at him, not knowing what to say as they were totally taken aback by the uncommon kindness of the Academician - Zakharov used this to his advantage. "No problem, you say? Well, then: I expect it in my lab by tomorrow afternoon. A fine day to you, gentlemen!" And he was off again, smiling broadly, followed by a laughing Tamar.

"You know how to beat them in their own game, don't you, Academician?"

Zakharov sat down in his quarters. The past ten years, their numbers had increased significantly, to the point where two colony pods were already sent out to found new settlements in the wilderness to the west - with the frequency of the mind worm attacks on those who ventured within a mile of the fungus forest, no one dared go nearer than they already were. He was waiting for a report from the governor of Gagarin Memorial (their second city) when suddenly a message came up on screen.

_Rereading of private logs recommended - files damaged - read?_

With a sigh of defeat - 'even my computer wants me to work non-stop' - he set to work on his personal records of the years past. The first files weren't corrupted, but they brought back memories of things long gone: their first gains in agriculture and science, their first losses to the mind worms... and the dreams of Deirdre as they were then. Now, in the tenth year of their stay on Chiron, the dreams had begun to lead a life of their own. She worked and laughed, she cared - she was alive and with him. He wished for it to be real, if only to be sure that she was alive. The uncertainty was a burden that grew heavier every day. The files of the later years, until the fifth year, were filled with that uncertainty, and it pained him to know that his hopes diminished.

And then he came to a particularly emotional piece, written a year before, that showed him exactly what he had overlooked.

_Lal's discourse has proven that he knows of no others in his neighborhood. It worries me that nine years have already passed and the only other survivor I know thus far is Lal. But perhaps she is also out there. It could be that she is further off - even Lal has not much knowledge of his surroundings. If only we could find a faster way to move, then we could send out reconnaissance troops that could cover double the distance and still take as long as they do now..._

He punched in a few numbers on his commlink and Tamar's face appeared.

"Yes, Academician?"

"Tamar, talk to assistant Nilsson for me and tell him that I have a condition for him. The construction bot will be his if he speeds up all research done on mobility. Find me a way to move faster, so we can cover more distance."

"Got it. Move faster is the word, Academician!" With that, she signed off, and left Zakharov to wonder how much more efficiency he could expect of her.

The research he had ordered had been fruitful and the first recon rover, manned with four men carrying hand blasters and two flamethrowers, was out on their first mission: to chart the land in a twenty-mile radius around each settlement. They were due back that night, and Zakharov's anxiety was rising by the minute as he sat with Tamar. The younger assistant sighed.

"You're pining for her, aren't you, Academician?" Zakharov, lost in his daydreams, looked up. "You're being awfully quiet and distracted ever since they left: you're hoping they'll bring back news of her, aren't you?" They had talked about the subject a few times, and Tamar was understanding. She smiled ruefully as he nodded softly.

"Is it foolish to hope?" He looked at her: his eyes were filled with contrasting emotions - above all, there was a deep sadness in them that made them watery.

"Was it foolish to believe we had a chance to survive back then? No, it wasn't. Just try to keep calm. ...Hmm, there's a cloud of dust that seems familiar..." Zakharov rose with a speed that belied his age and winced as he felt his knees protest. He wasn't young. But at the horizon, a dust cloud rose and grew: soon, the rover team was visible, nearing the base with great speed. By now, men and women were trooping together near the gate and the guards had a hard time clearing the way for the arrival of their reconnaissance troops. Zakharov walked quietly to the meeting room where the men were sure to go.

After he had spent five minutes walking around nervously, the door opened and one of the men came in, led by Tamar.

"Greetings, Academician.", the man said, announced by the assistant as lieutenant Robbins, as he walked over to a table and sat down. "The area around each base has been mapped. We've set up sensors at ten miles of each base in the four directions. Oh, and I've seen something odd as well, sir."

"What did you see?" Zakharov was all ears since he hoped it would pertain to Deirdre.

"While mapping the area, we came close to the border of our land and Commissioner Lal's. But a third faction's land seems to border ours, for we saw the most oddly impossible sight..." Urged on by an impatient Zakharov, the man continued. "There was another base at about twenty miles from the border. We've observed it for a while, and saw nothing save vehicles carrying a strange insignia entering the base. But then someone exited. Truly, I didn't believe my eyes - it was a single man, with at his feet about thirty mind worms, crawling in front of him as he went out to do battle with another troop of mind worms. Another man followed shortly after him, taking care not to come in the way of the mind worm boil. And then... The man with the mind worms went up to the other troop. There was no attack: instead, the second boil went over to the second man and followed him as they retreated into the city."

"I-impossible...", Zakharov stammered, shocked and unwilling to believe that it was possible. He pondered in silence on the new revelation for a while, then returned to the matter at hand. "And what about the insignia?"

"It was a strange one. It looked like a green square, edged with thorns, and within it some kind of crescence symbol - a seed or something." This startled Zakharov, who quickly dismissed the man and went to his quarters, leaving behind a stunned-looking Tamar at the door - obviously caught eavesdropping by someone... Once in his study, he dialed the outside code, then the code of Lal's private quarters. The screen immediately showed the other man.

"Ah, greetings, Prokhor! With what can I be of any assistance?"

"There's another faction that borders both of our lands. Did you know?"

"Hmm... Oh! I know who you mean! Wait... let's see... Ah, here we are! Dial this code and see for yourself who it is..." Lal sent the code through their datalink and closed the commlink connection, leaving Zakharov to look hesitantly at the little piece of paper his printer had blurted out.

"Lal, what are you up to now?", he wondered as he dialed the code. The screen went black for a while, and when it flashed on...

"Prokhor?"

* * *

Deirdre's colonizing endeavours went on as she meant them to, and within another five years, she had established two more bases and was sending a third colony pod to another spot her recon troops found ideally suited for settlements. She sighed: her duties pressed heavier on her by the year, and she was yet to find a solution for Eliza's problem with psy-training. 

The young girl had assisted in the research that had been taking place immediately after the discovery of 'brood trainers' as they called themselves, and she was now calling out for a centre that taught people with a high sensitivity to psy how to defend themselves and/or attack. And, what was infinitely more important, a centre where soldiers could learn how to channel their psy-energy as to gain control over a mind worm boil. She herself had volunteered as future brood trainer and was eagerly 'learning' from those that already had control over a mind worm boil. Which, of course, was not to Sean's liking. At all. Her brother had been sulking all week, and there were less occasions when both were conspicuously missing from their duties at the same time. Deirdre smiled as she remembered her 'little talk' to her brother, who had blushed from beginning to end and had given her the slip as soon as he could: even so, he had heeded her wise words and took care not to be careless.

"...and this makes no sense." Voices drew near her quarters. Then, a knock on the door.

"Enter!", Deirdre called as she made sure not to look idle. To her relief, it were Sean and Eliza. "Oh, it's just you guys. What's the matter?"

"Eliza, you say it." Deirdre raised an eyebrow at that, since there was nothing her little brother would not dare tell her - or so she presumed. Yet there was something they needed to tell her and... 'Oh gods', she thought as her stomach clenched unpleasantly.

"Lady Deirdre... We, um, that is to say... We wanna work in the labs." Upon hearing this, Deirdre relaxed visibly.

"You both already work in the labs...", she said, but Sean interrupted her.

"Yeah, but we mean real work. As assistants. Full-time, to learn."

"Well, of course you do." Deirdre was proud of her brother's want of study, and she was happy that Eliza should choose the same. "Where do you want to work?"

"Well, I'd like to study from the biologists...", Eliza said hesitantly, "the brood trainers tell me that it's essential to know as much about them as you can..."

"And I want to work with the physicists, Dee, you know I do!" Deirdre snickered: it was true, he had expressed his wish to work as a physicist in her labs more times than she could remember.

"Hmm, I'll make sure everything's arranged. Wait here." She dialed a code on her commlink and a familiar face appeared.

"Lady Skye, greetings!"

"Hello, Zeke." Her chief of science, Ezechiel Waters, was a strict but reasonable man who had a fondness for Deirdre - probably because of his age and the fact that he lost a daughter which had looked a lot like her. "I've got two new assistants for our ranks. First, assistant-biologist Eliza Verduyn - aged twenty-four C, and next assistant-physicist Sean Skye - aged twenty-three C, both resident here."

"He got you to approve now, did he?" Deirdre raised an eyebrow, wondering what the older man meant. "He's been working here for years now - unofficially, of course - and now he's finally become an employee."

"Yes, well, he'll soon suffer from it, I'm sure." She closed the commlink and turned to the two in front of her. "Right, now to settle the question of your living place..."

"Huh? Living place? What ques-"

"She means that we can't live with our families anymore now that we've got jobs and all, dumbo!" Sean winced, but didn't look surprised. 'Those two devils only wanted me to let them work so they can live together... well, probably only one of them did', she thought as she saw bewilderment on Sean's face, followed by realization.

"Yes, you'll need a place to live so you can easily go to work and such. Until you have one, you can stay with your family, Eliza - and Sean, you know you can stay with me - but you'll need to get your own place soon."

"We'll be on the lookout for it. Come on, Sean!" Eliza dragged the young man off, and it surprised Deirdre that - though they were in their twenties - they still seemed to be teenagers at heart. 'And in body', she added - an unsettling thought, because she, too, didn't seem to age anymore. The doctors were riddled, but she found it rather pleasant - her mother had had deep wrinkles that would deepen when she smiled, and Deirdre had always secretly wished she wouldn't look like her when she grew up. She pondered on for a while - and then was rudely disrupted when her commlink screen flashed on and showed the face of the governor of Razorbeak Wood, the first of their other settlements. As she was quickly engaged in other matters, all thoughts of age faded from her mind to be replaced by duller matters.

The next week began with the moving out of Sean and his moving in with Eliza in what they soon began to call their 'den': a small house between the labs and one of the many nurseries. Their increased worktime brought an additional benefit with it, it seemed, for after only three days, the physics group reached a major breakthrough in its research and discovered a way to build hydrofoils from the materials that were available. Sean was the one who came to make the news known to Deirdre and she gave them all a bonus for their quick work - Sean's eyes widened and he started to blush.

"Well, now, get back to your work, all of you. If you keep up like this, I'll expect major discoveries from you every week!" She laughed along with them, then nodded as they went out. She liked to reward her colleagues once in a while. 'Hmm, maybe I should go tell the transport production units to start building ships... but what use is that here? ...Maybe in Razorbeak Woods? ...Maybe. I should contact the governor...'

_Incoming commlink message. Sender unidentified_. Her computer flashed a message in front of her, which startled her. Pressing her hand to her heart, she answered.

"Hello, this is Deirdre Skye, who is it?"

"Deirdre! It's me, Pravin Lal." She saw the image of the Indian man appear in front of her and smiled.

"Lal! You've landed safely as well then?"

"Yes... as have you apparently. Quite busy colonizing already, I see..."

"Yes, well, the people need to live somewhere, don't they? And besides, my town here is only little, but it's big in the hearts of those that follow me."

"You too, eh? The people in my city call me 'Commissioner' nowadays, as if it's some honorary title. And they call themselves the 'Peacekeepers', with which I fully agree by the way... You?"

"I've been Lady Skye of Gaia's Stepdaughters for a while now. But how did you get my commlink frequency?"

"The governor of your city gave it to me. Velvetgrass point, is that right?"

"Hmm, could be... the settlement there was said to lie near a rather large hill." The two leaders talked for a while, then Lal checked something that bleeped to his right.

"Excuse me, Deirdre, but I've got to go, I've got another call. I'll see you again sometime, maybe to negotiate over something. Lal out." The screen went black, leaving Deirdre with mixed feelings. She knew Lal was safe, but when she answered the message... she had hoped for it to be someone else. She had hoped that it would be Santiago, or Prokhor. The thought that they could be dead was never far away whenever she thought of them. 'It has already been ten years and still, only Lal has contacted me so far. Wouldn't Lal know anyone? ...No, he would've told me... wouldn't he?' While she was lost in thoughts, she vaguely heard her commlink bleep again. 'It should add Lal's frequency to the database, but he keeps telling me that it's an unidentified sender... hmm, faulty computer...' She accepted the message and was amazed to see not Lal's face appear on screen, but someone else.

"Prokhor?"

_They meet again! (Well, they see each other again on the commlink screen, at the very least). Ahem, explanations..._

_- the C in the ages of Sean and Eliza stands for Cryosleep - meaning that they are older than they look. Which is about sixteen, I should guess._

_- Lal is in fact patronizing Deirdre a bit, but he can't help it. Notice Deirdre refers to him as Lal (I do, too, because the man is ancient) and Lal calls her by her first name and not 'miss Skye' or something. But it's more a term of endearment than a sign of superiority, really._

_- and, lastly, the research may seem a bit hurried, but I figured it was about right in the beginning, plus I needed a bit of scientific discoveries to liven up the story. And for the plot, too._

_Enjoy the story, and don't forget to tell me what you think. It helps me rewrite the chapters._


	8. Be a part of

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, owning myself is difficult enough. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

8) Be a part of.

"D-deirdre?" Zakharov blinked, unable to believe his eyes. Was it really her, after all those years of hope, of heartache and incertainty, after all those years of hardship? Were his senses deceiving him?

"Oh... Is it really you?" She looked about ready to faint, and Zakharov realised he, too, must have paled. He sighed - his heart raced as he acknowledged it. 'She is alive! She's well!' "I can't believe it!" She smiled broadly and her eyes sparkled with tears, which Zakharov wanted to wipe away. Still, there was a distance of who knew how much between them. He sighed again, this time in defeat.

"Oh, Deirdre, I cannot believe it too. After all those years of wishing you were well... But how are you?" He smiled his softest smile, and she answered with a smile of her own.

"I'm well, thanks. How are you? I've only just spoken to Lal and now you... is my base near one of yours then?"

"Well, it appears so. I've sent my men scouting the surroundings and they reported seeing someone. When I asked Lal whether he knew who it was, he only gave me a commlink frequency - yours."

"Why that...", Deirdre started, seemingly offended, and then she stopped and giggled - the sound of which made Zakharov weak in the knees. He smiled. "I know, he wanted you to see for yourself. Had he told me he knew you were still alive - I would've fainted on the spot!" She grinned as she continued: "There are some assistants here who you would probably know... but they're too good to return, so if you don't mind, I'll keep them."

"Likewise here. And how's Sean? Have you already let him join the ranks of the learned?" At this Deirdre seemed to become pensive. "Oh... If I offended..."

"No, no, it's not that...", Deirdre said and she smiled softly. "He's found himself a girlfriend here and they've moved in together. He is working as an assistant, though. But it's just... I worry for him - and for her as well. They've moved into a small house near the labs. And near one of our daycare facilities..."

"Huh?" Zakharov didn't quite understand her worries at first, then realization dawned. "Oh..." She was afraid that the girl began to long for a child of her own. "It is understandable...", he began, but she shook her head.

"Well, it's just... they still look the same age they were when they arrived... I can't believe they're ready to have a child. I know they are, and that they probably will soon, but I can't believe it."

"Sean, too? Has he seemingly stopped aging?" Zakharov was baffled to hear it.

"Well, yeah, and the doctors say so have I. You too then? ...Well, you'll certainly have nothing but benefits."

"That I have...", Zakharov said and laughed. He looked at Deirdre, who seemed to be stunned - but then she recovered and laughed as well.

"Well, perhaps now you'll see that being old is better than being young." She snickered as she turned away from the screen. "I'll be there in a moment, Eliza..." Turning back, she explained: "Eliza, my self-appointed aide and Sean's girlfriend. Who has also stopped aging, for the record. She's told me my presence is needed in the xenobiology lab..."

"I understand. Shall we speak again this evening?" He saw her snicker again, then she smiled and said:

"Sure. We have so many things to talk about... This evening, nine o'clock, I'll be sitting right here. Good day then... and don't forget!"

"Nine. I'll be sitting here as well, and I'll be talking to a charming young woman too." He winked at her, which made her blush as she signed out and left him staring at a black screen. He sighed as he sat back and pondered about meeting Deirdre again. 'She was overjoyed to see me again... did she remember my kissing her?' He smiled softly. 'If she did, she didn't seem angry about it at all...'

"Ahem." He became aware that there was someone else in his study: looking at the door, he saw Tamar standing there. "Academician, with whom were you talking just now?" Then, after a pause: "Was it... her?"

"She is well... she is safe and sound." His voice sounded like someone else's again, but this time the emotion that filled it was a profound love. The assistant smiled again, genuinely happy.

"Well, now that you've seen her again on the screen, you've started thinking about winning her over, I'm sure."

"Well... I would be all the happier, but she knows what I feel. If she changes her feelings, I'll know it, Tamar. You are a true friend to be so concerned for me."

"Who said I was concerned for you?", she retorted with a wink. "Now, professor, the laboratories need you. The mathematicians and information specialists say that they're nearing a breakthrough in polymorphic software research. They're close to discovering the last strings of code they need..." Zakharov nodded and followed her to the labs, still thinking of Deirdre and of how she had visited his dreams - and in his dreams, too, she remained the same age...

University logs / private logs / P.L. Zakharov, Academician - entry 23/04/2110

_Praise to every deity that still lives in this universe! I have seen Deirdre again! She is still as radiant and beautiful and smiling as she was on board the Unity. Her eyes - her answers - her smile! Oh, I've missed her so terribly - dreams are in no way a replacement for hearing her voice... I have seen this beautiful Skye again..._

University logs / formal inter-faction relations log / Gaia's Stepdaughters

_April 23rd 2110: discovery of faction_

_April 24th 2110: peaceful relations established - technology trade: Doctrine Flexibility for Doctrine Mobility, Polymorphic Software for Centauri Ecology - mineral trade established: rare minerals traded for nutrients surplus._

_May 5th 2110: alliance negotiated and confirmed. Map of Gaian terrain downloaded, map of University terrain given. Steady trade agreements reached._

_November 13th 2120: personal visit by Academician planned to Gaian capitol (Gaia's Landing). Reason of visit: confidential._

'Confidential indeed', Zakharov thought as he travelled with a small group of Deirdre's troops - detached to University Base to escort him safely to their own home. The mind worms' obedience to their brood trainers was a marvel in itself, but the fact that they were sentient was baffling. He never thought the small horrors capable of thought, let alone awareness. Yet their thoughts about the 'tall earthvisitor' were being voiced by the brood trainers and answered wordlessly.

The capitol was large, and his first thought as he entered it was one of awe: 'How did Deirdre manage to accumulate all this!' The buildings were tall and organic-looking, almost like trees with large mushrooms - balconies, ventilation systems and other extensions of the rooms inside. In the middle of the city, a walled-in forest stood. Zakharov passed it and saw the memorial plaque, which he read out loud while the brood trainers waited patiently.

"We left our mother Gaia with grief, and when we were gone her other children most cruelly killed her. Though we treat our new mother Planet with care and respect, we may never forget those that died along with our true mother. Our kind destroyed Earth, but we will never allow ourselves to harm Chiron." He smiled. 'A truth that is both shattering and endearing...', he thought as the men escorted him further, to a larger building in the westernmost part of the city. They brought him inside and he immediately noticed the various rooms filled with equipment - a laboratory.

"Lady Skye will see you in a moment, she is still working on her research. Please wait here.", one of the brood trainers said as he showed Zakharov a small meeting room: the tall scientist nodded and the men left. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, appeared a young woman that was apparently a scientist - she wore a lab coat though it was soiled with what appeared to be earth.

"You're him, right?" Zakharov was taken aback by her: she had deep green eyes that stared at him relentlessly, though she wore a smile that softened her inquisitive gaze a bit. "Zakharov, I mean. Academician of the University. The one that only Lady Deirdre gets to call 'Prokhor' - your first name, I presume?"

"True. You're an observant girl. You are... Eliza? Deirdre's aide, Sean's fiancée?"

"The very same." She bowed gracefully as she sat down. "Lady Deirdre speaks much of you, sir - or should I call you 'Academician'?"

"'Sir' will do just fine. I've never asked for my title, and I take it neither has Deirdre. ...But I am being impolite. It is a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand to her and she shook it firmly and with a smile. "How is Sean doing?"

"Nervous, but he'll hold. Aren't you nervous, sir? I know Lady Deirdre is..." This surprised Zakharov.

"Why should I be nervous? And why should she?" But then the door opened and Deirdre entered - and suddenly he was unable to speak, unable to think of anything to say.

She was... there was no word for it.

"Deirdre...", he merely said and took her extended hand: but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on it, which made Deirdre blush.

"Prokhor, it is such a pleasure to see you, especially considering the reason of your coming here. ...Sean should be here in a minute." She looked at him with a soft smile. "You're still agreed, right?"

"Yes, Deirdre. I've told you before, it would be my pleasure to grant you a favor. Anything you ask of me, I'll do." 'She has no idea that the favor she asks of me is small in comparison of what she could ask me...', he thought and felt his heart doing overtime again. "And then you'll have plenty of reasons to come over to my base and visit me. We should play chess again." A knock on the door, and then Sean appeared.

"You've sent for me, Dee? ...Professor Zakharov?" Even knowing that Sean had not or barely aged since his arrival, it was still a shock to Zakharov to see him stand before him looking like a twenty-year old: but it was an even greater shock for Sean to see him sitting there, apparently, for all colour quickly drained from his face.

"It's 'Academician' Zakharov nowadays, but it is refreshing to hear my old title again." The older scientist was first to recover and he smiled at the young man before him. "I've gathered that you've become quite the scientist since your arrival on Chiron."

"Yes... well, Planet's been a start for all of us, hasn't it?" Zakharov noted his choice of words and decided to ask Deirdre later why he spoke of 'Planet' rather than 'Chiron': now, he turned quickly to the matter at hand.

"Deirdre thinks that you've got potential, but that you need a bit of guidance. It so happens I was looking for someone that could be my right-hand man. How would you like to come and work at University Base for a while and extend your skills?" He saw a variety of emotions pass over Sean's face, and then he looked at Eliza.

"What do you think? ...Can you miss me for a while?" His eyes were pleading. The girl only nodded in approval and Sean turned to Zakharov again. "I'd be glad to."

"Good. Now that this is settled... Deirdre, I would love a personal tour through your city."

"Well, then, a tour is what you shall get!", she said as she offered him her arm. He blinked and instead offered her his - a social convention from long ago springing up into his mind. For a moment, Deirdre looked confused, then she smiled and took his offered arm, guiding him back outside...

* * *

"D-deirdre?" Zakharov looked the way she felt: not willing to believe it.

"Oh... Is it really you?" She felt all sorts of emotions wash over her, draining the colour from her face as she swooned under such mental strain. He looked as bad as she had to, and she smiled, losing the battle against the upcoming tears. "I can't believe it!" She saw Zakharov start as if he wanted to wipe away her tears.

"Oh, Deirdre, I cannot believe it too. After all those years of wishing you were well... But how are you?" He smiled, a disarmingly charming smile that felt good to see again after such a long time, and she returned it unconsciously.

"I'm well, thanks. How are you? I've only just spoken to Lal and now you... is my base near one of yours then?"

"Well, it appears so. I've sent my men scouting the surroundings and they reported seeing someone. When I asked Lal whether he knew who it was, he only gave me a commlink frequency - yours."

"Why that...", Deirdre started, offended, and then she stopped and giggled. She could easily imagine Lal now thinking of the miracle he had seemingly accomplished. Zakharov raised an eyebrow and she explained: "I know, he wanted you to see for yourself. Had he told me he knew you were still alive - I would've fainted on the spot!" She continued with a grin: "There are some assistants here who you would probably know... but they're too good to return, so if you don't mind, I'll keep them."

"Likewise here. And how's Sean? Have you already let him join the ranks of the learned?" At the mention of Sean, Deirdre suddenly remembered the genuine amazement on his face at getting a bonus on his first day. Her brother, though young in body, sometimes belied his true age by seemingly acting as a teenager. "Oh... If I offended..." Zakharov's voice made her realise that she had been pondering in silence for a while.

"No, no, it's not that...", Deirdre said and she smiled softly. "He's found himself a girlfriend here and they've moved in together. He is working as an assistant, though. But it's just... I worry for him - and for her as well. They've moved into a small house near the labs. And near one of our daycare facilities..."

"Huh?" Zakharov seemed to be nonplussed, and then his featured alighted as he realised what exactly was on her mind. "It is understandable..." She shook her head to dismiss the thoughts that dwelled inside her mind.

"Well, it's just... they still look the same age they were when they arrived... I can't believe they're ready to have a child. I know they are, and that they probably will soon, but I can't believe it."

"Sean, too? Has he seemingly stopped aging?" Now she had amazed the scientist, she thought with a smile.

"Well, yeah, and the doctors say so have I. You too then? ...Well, you'll certainly have nothing but benefits."

"That I have..." Zakharov chuckled, and it took a while for Deirdre to see the fun in her remark, but when she did, she laughed heartily.

"Well, perhaps now you'll see that being old is better than being young." She snickered as she was disturbed by a knock on the door. With a soft sigh, she turned away from the screen. "I'll be there in a moment, Eliza...", she said as she waved the girl away - signifying that the disturbance came at a bad moment. She turned back to Zakharov and explained to him: "Eliza, my self-appointed aide and Sean's girlfriend. Who has also stopped aging, for the record. She's told me my presence is needed in the xenobiology lab..."

"I understand. Shall we speak again this evening?" Deirdre snickered again softly - 'He can't miss me now he knows I'm here, can he?' - and she nodded with a smile.

"Sure. We have so many things to talk about... This evening, nine o'clock, I'll be sitting right here. Good day then... and don't forget!" The older scientist's bad memory had been the object of many jokes on board the 'Unity'.

"Nine. I'll be sitting here as well, and I'll be talking to a charming young woman too." She blushed as he winked: 'Oh, he is such a... scoundrel!', she thought as she signed out. Then, she softly started laughing.

"Oh, Prokhor, if you had any idea...", she said as she rose from her chair. At that exact moment, Eliza burst through the door.

"Lady Skye, you're missing what might be the most significant breakthrough in the history of Planet!"

"I don't care, Eliza...", Deirdre said with a smile. "I've talked to him again."

"Him? Him who?" Eliza hadn't known either Deirdre or Zakharov when on board - she had almost immediately been put into cryostasis. Luckily, Sean chose that same moment to appear mysteriously.

"Do you happen to mean the professor?", he asked, his glee barely concealed. "Professor Zakharov, the leader of the science teams on board the 'Unity', and the one only Deirdre gets to call 'Prokhor', he he...", he clarified with a truly devious little chuckle at the end.

"Oh, if you think you're above all humanity and friendship, let's see you work, my little scientist!", she said, pushing Sean into one of the other corridors while heading down another with Eliza.

"Now, this discovery, what is it about?"

"We've unravelled a large portion of the Centauri ecology, Lady Deirdre." The girl started discussing the breakthrough and Deirdre found her mind focusing on the biology of the matter. However, in the back of her mind now sat a warm spot, like a candle in her head, that heated her heart when she thought of the conversation she was going to have that evening...

Gaia's Landing - private files - Lady Deirdre Skye - diary, 23/04/2110

_Today will be in my heart forever. I have spoken to Prokhor again. The conversation was one of little things, but it warmed my heart to know that my best - and perhaps my only - friend is doing well. It was a terrible time, not to know about him... but now that time is over and I can look forward to a new period of our friendship..._

Gaia's Landing - outgoing communication - sender: Lady Deirdre Skye / recipient: Academician P.L. Zakharov of the University

_Prokhor, in light of many things that have come up recently, I want to ask you a favor. Our alliance has lasted for quite a while now - ten years, has it really been that long? - and our friendship has not only strengthened, but also deepened._

_The reason for my request is Sean. He has, over the course of these ten years, become the very best physicist/information specialist the Gaians have. But I fear his education is lacking something. He needs the proper environment to learn everything, and the very best to teach him. Knowing your experience and excellent reputation both here and on Earth and considering that Sean respects you more than anyone else, I was wondering if Sean could work for a while under your supervision at University Base. You have more technologically advanced labs and better trained assistants, so he should be able to learn so much more when working together with you. What do you say? Yours sincerely, Deirdre._

Gaia's Landing - incoming communication - sender: Academician P.L. Zakharov of the University / recipient: Lady Deirdre Skye

_Deirdre, I would be delighted to. I will come and visit you in a week and then I will take him along with me. I may ask for a favor in return, but I cannot think of something at the moment. Yours in friendship and otherwise, Prokhor. (PS: make sure no one catches you calling me by my first name when you're ever in University Base, I think my people would probably think of it as blasphemy.)_

Deirdre had seen the escort she had sent to University Base return, safely bringing Zakharov with them. Somehow, she felt nervous when she faced the thought of meeting him for real once more. The screen, however frustrating she found it sometimes, was a kind of protection at the same time. She vividly remembered his kiss and had never taken off the ring that he had once worn on his thumb - it had been her solace many times, when she had had difficulties. Noticing the city live out its life underneath her, she smiled and relaxed a little. How could she not feel at ease in this city, that now celebrated its twentieth year of existence - or nearly, anyway. There was much to remember, and at times like these, she found her mind busy.

"Eliza, go see if the Academician has arrived yet. If he has, tell him I'll be there in five minutes." Eliza nodded, glad to escape the tedious business of taking notes from one of the books that Deirdre kept in her study - far away from prying eyes and over-eager assistants. She sighed again as she heard the door close. 'Lord, if I get this nervous just for meeting an old friend...', she reprimanded herself. 'But then again... It is Prokhor we're talking about.' She giggled and closed the windows that led to her balcony, making sure they were securely shut before exiting her quarters and moving down the building, to the main floor meeting room where he would probably be waiting already...

She opened the door, resolving not to shake; but when she saw him, she couldn't help herself and felt her legs protest. Her heart raced and her head swam, which she concluded with some surprise.

"Deirdre..." She smiled softly and extended her hand for him to shake; but instead of doing so, he carefully raised it to his lips and placed a kiss on it, which made her blush for something she couldn't quite place.

"Prokhor, it is such a pleasure to see you, especially considering the reason of your coming here. ...Sean should be here in a minute." She looked at him with a soft smile. "You're still agreed, right?"

"Yes, Deirdre. I've told you before, it would be my pleasure to grant you a favor. Anything you ask of me, I'll do." 'He really is too kind...', she thought as she blushed again - this time a bit more subdued. "And then you'll have plenty of reasons to come over to my base and visit me. We should play chess again.", he continued. Just as she was about to speak, a knock on the door sounded, and then Sean appeared.

"You've sent for me, Dee? ...Professor Zakharov?" Deirdre marvelled at the genuine amazement on her brother's face as it quickly became as white as a sheet - it had been mean not to say anything, but she knew he'd be all the more thankful.

"It's 'Academician' Zakharov nowadays, but it is refreshing to hear my old title again." Prokhor had recovered a bit faster than Sean, and she smiled at the thought. . "I've gathered that you've become quite the scientist since your arrival on Chiron."

"Yes... well, Planet's been a start for all of us, hasn't it?" Deirdre saw a surprised look on the tall scientist's face, but decided not to interrupt.

"Deirdre thinks that you've got potential, but that you need a bit of guidance. It so happens I was looking for someone that could be my right-hand man. How would you like to come and work at University Base for a while and extend your skills?" Sean seemed to contemplate the thoughts that undoubtedly raged through his mind - his face showed a rapid succession of various conflicting emotions - and then turned to the one whose opinion would decide: Eliza.

"What do you think? ...Can you miss me for a while?" When she nodded, he did so as well and turned to his new mentor. "I'd be glad to."

"Good. Now that this is settled... Deirdre, I would love a personal tour through your city."

"Well, then, a tour is what you shall get!" Deirdre rose and offered her arm to him - but he instead offered her his. Smiling as she realised he was being courteous - for the social custom was that the gentleman offered his arm to the lady - she took his arm and they walked outside together.


	9. Find out

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, owning myself is difficult enough. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin... (PS: sorry for the late upload... I was busy suffering Nature's 'gift' to women...)

9) Find out.

During the ten years that followed Sean's arrival in University Base as a pupil of Zakharov's, rumours had started to rise about the Academician. Some rumours were far from true, but others were oddly consistent with the situation between Deirdre and him. And of some of the rumours he wished they were true. He made the way he felt about Deirdre no secret because he wanted her to know that, in the event that her feelings about him change, he would immediately be hers.

But right now, the scientist was poring over a book, all thoughts of Deirdre pushed in a more remote corner of his mind. Sean was sitting beside him, whispering thoughts as he read.

"The density of matters... blah, blah... Hey!" He rose from his seat, his face betraying outrage. "It says here that matter will not change its properties. I'd agree with that, but what about the boreholes?" This made Zakharov look up in amazement.

"The boreholes, yes... You're right, Sean, absolutely right!" He dialed a number on his commlink and the face of Tamar appeared, who had been named scientific coordinator three years after Sean's arrival - that was almost seven years ago now. "Tamar?"

"Academician... I take it our young genius has another idea."

"No, this time he gave me an idea of my own. Tell the civil engineers that we want a borehole at five miles from the base. I want to run some tests..." He didn't notice his grin, but Tamar did and grinned back at him.

"Understood, Academician. I'll go tell our workers the joyous news." The screen turned off and Zakharov turned back to Sean.

"Take the rest of the day off, you've deserved it.", he said to the nonplussed youth - Sean barely overcame his amazement long enough to get out before his mentor could change his mind, it seemed. Zakharov chuckled as he heard him stumble outside and turned back to the book, closing it before taking out his notebook again.

Sean's insights were of tremendous importance and Zakharov always made sure that his pupil was listened to. Every new technology or scientific discovery was transmitted to Deirdre, mostly in return for a technology or scientific novelty of the Gaians. Their alliance had proven fruitful to everyone, and now Lal had entered the alliance as well - he had doubted it initially, but when Deirdre said that it was only a name for a friendship between the leaders (exemplifying by the one existing alliance that was founded because she and Zakharov were friends), he allied himself to both Deirdre and Zakharov and shared his research with both. It was a sign of the establishment of the new order that none of them seemed to consider giving up the independence of their factions in favor of a greater whole. 'Well, who would've known that we'd come to love the titles given to us...', he thought as he heard his commlink bleep.

_Incoming message, sender identified as Sergeant Hayes. Receive?_ 'News from the recon troops? I didn't expect their report so soon... must be urgent or special...' He clicked 'receive' and saw the worn face of the older commander.

"Academician, we've found another alien artifact... and a Unity data pod." The news surprised Zakharov, for normally Unity data pods were immediately cracked on the field and deserved no special attention.

"Yes, and?", he asked, a bit impatiently.

"Excuse me, Academician, if this seems a waste of your time. But our laptops were useless. The datapod encryption on this pod is something else, it's too complex for our computers to hack into..."

"Bring it here, we'll see what's the matter.", he said. "I'm sorry for being a bit snappish, Sergeant, it's been too long a day already." He sighed and then thought of the hour. "I'm keeping you from your meal, I think. Return to the base and bring the artifact and the datapod here. Maybe the Network Node can mean something..." The commander nodded and signed off, leaving Zakharov to think...

The next day, after having studied the artifact and learning from it a great deal of techniques that led to an advancement in their knowledge about weapon technology - a branch that Zakharov personally hated more than anything else, save perhaps Morgan - the datapod was scrutinized by about a dozen different scientists before ending up with Zakharov.

"It's useless, Academician, even I have tried...", Tamar said almost apologetically as she brought it in. "I can tell you one thing, though: it's not broken or erased. The data on it must be - or have been - of utmost importance.

"I understand. And the Network Node?", the older scientist asked, mentioning the strongest equipment the data engineering team had. Tamar shook her head almost sadly, it seemed.

"Not a thing. As clueless as we are, Academician..." With that, she left him in his study. Lifting the datapod and looking at it from every angle, Zakharov pondered for awhile on how to crack the security around its contents - and musing on its contents as well.

"Professor? They were looking for you in the labs... oh." Sean had entered - he had the rather annoying habit of entering without knocking on the door or saying something, so that people only knew he was inside when he said something. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you..."

"It's nothing, Sean, come in. In fact, you can help me with this." He motioned for a chair next to him and smiled. As Sean sat down, he continued: "This is a datapod from the Unity that is proving extremely stubborn to open. Its encryption software is apparently of a higher level than the decryption tools we have until now."

"Encryption, eh?" Sean took the object from Zakharov's hands and looked at it in a way similar to the way Zakharov had looked at it only moments before. "Well, I can hack into anything... or at least, I try to. But if I can't crack the code..." He then looked up to his mentor. "Oh, that's right! I can't, I'm supposed to be leaving for home in a week!"

"Wait a minute..." He turned to his commlink again and dialed Deirdre's number. After a few seconds, her face appeared on screen.

"Hello, Prokhor - oh, erm, Academician...", she corrected herself as she noticed Sean's presence. This earned her an amused look from her brother.

"C'mon, Dee, we all know you're on first name terms with a genius..." Then, with a blush, he realised that he had interrupted. "I'm sorry, professor..."

"It is allright. Deirdre, do you remember when Sean went with me, when I said I might call in a return favor sometime?" As she nodded, he continued: "It happens that I've collected a datapod that proves extremely difficult to decode. The Network Node can't even give us a possible solution... But Sean is a self-proclaimed master hacker and I think that - if his genius extends to this field of science as well - he stands a fairer chance than any other assistant at my base. I would have him stay longer." Deirdre smiled upon hearing him talk of his Network Node.

"Technology has its imperfections, after all, Prokhor...", she said, "About the favor... I think it's okay, but what Eliza will say...? How much longer did you have in mind?" Now Zakharov smiled.

"They have been engaged for fifteen years now, a few more years would only be a continuation of the same. But three years, and not a moment longer."

"I think she can live with that", Deirdre said. "Nine o'clock?"

"Nine o'clock - as usual. The company keeps getting better every day."

"Same here." It was a joke that had slowly arisen from their almost-daily conversations over the commlink. "Bye then. Behave, Sean!" She signed off after Zakharov's almost customary wink, leaving the professor to turn back to Sean.

"There, that is settled. Don't pack your belongings yet – your contract will get renewed tomorrow..."

* * *

Deirdre had been enjoying the quietude that the absence of Sean brought for the past ten years: even she, who would defend her brother time and again, had to admit that it was much quieter and less exciting at the base. His geniality was gravely missed as well: the physicists had made less breakthroughs in the ten years that had passed than in the ten years of his full-time employment.

But at that precise moment, she didn't ponder about Sean's absence as she was busy doing her own work. Her lab coat was spattered with muck and smelled like dung, and her hair was tied up in a neat bun in order for it not to start clinging to her face – which failed miserably, for the strands of brown clung to her cheeks wherever they had gotten loose from the bun. She took one of the plants out of its patch of soil and smiled.

"What have we got here? ...These look like roots lumped together... almost like a potato..." Looking at the name-card for the plant, she saw only grime: the name was obscured by a thick layer of mud which she couldn't wipe away. "Okay, I guess your name is 'Sandy' for the time being... Will someone please hand me the test subject chart!", she said to the group of assistants that was by now idly standing about. One of them jumped, rummaged about in the box on the desk behind him and gave her the chart with the test plants' specifications.

"Here you go, Lady..."

"Okay, now let's see... what alterations were made?" Quickly leafing through the chart, she rapidly found what she was searching. "Genetic code adapted, genetic material of desert plants spliced in... Ladies and gentlemen, this plant...", she said while holding the scruffy little plant up so everyone could have a proper look, "...has become, by the simple alteration of genetic material, a source of emergency food. These root lumps must be filled with water and carbohydrates. Can anyone do the normal tests with this?" One of the assistants nodded, took one of the lumps with her and went to the lab next door, where the test animals were: 'the normal tests' meant that some of them would be fed a diet of new plant food for a week while being monitored closely. Grinning as the image of a small white mouse nibbling a turnip entered her mind, Deirdre went on to the next plant, carefully placing 'Sandy' back into the soil...

That evening, she was patiently waiting in her private quarters for the customary evening conversation with Zakharov, watching a newly reinvented form of entertainment: television. One of her assistants had come up with the idea to try to set up new transmission equipment and infrastructure for a new televising network, and she had encouraged and supported the idea. It was a way to lift the solitude and calmth that had fallen over Gaia's Stepdaughters as Sean was gone. There were three channels currently available: the Gaian Network which was the official channel, supported by Deirdre and the first one to have broadcast; the Planetary Channel, something like National Geographic Channel had been on earth – filled with documentaries; and the commercial channel GaiaVision, which she secretly admired because it was run by those that had worked hard and were ready to invest in the new and rising economy. With a soft smile, she looked back at the documentary on monoliths and alien artifacts that she had been following for the past hour. The camera crew for the documentaries was superb and she had willingly let them go with one of the recon crews to shoot their footage. The next documentary was as innovative as it was bold: an unmanned camera had been recording the native life in a fungus field for 48 hours, and the documentary told of the peculiarities that were visible.

Deirdre watched in awe as the first images showed a magnificent dawn, setting the fungal nodes ablaze in wondrous and alien colors. A colony of Glow Mites came to the surface, gathering the spores that the morning dew had dragged down from the fungal stalks – and then Deirdre couldn't help but notice that a few of the Glow Mites kept rubbing their antennae against the fungus. The images went on, commentated by one of Deirdre's brightest xenobiologists, and then the Glow Mites suddenly all scurried from sight. The screen showed only fungus for a moment, then a larval mind worm boil passed the camera. Moments passed again in silence, then the Glow Mites reappeared and continued gathering the spores. Deirdre watched on, fascinated, as the documentary got a few very good shots of Razorbeaks catching a few mind worm larvae and a demon boil – Deirdre thanked God for the fact that she had only seen such a boil from afar and not at the perimeter of one of her bases – passing in the distance. Then, suddenly, she was rudely drawn away from the documentary by her commlink.

"I though I turned it off...", she said with a sigh: it was her habit to block all incoming messages until about eight o'clock – and it was only half past seven.

_Incoming message, sender Academician Prokhor Zakharov. Receive?_ 'What could be urgent enough to make Prokhor call early?', she wondered as she pressed 'receive' and saw the Academician's face.

"Hello, Prokhor - oh, erm, Academician...", she corrected herself as she noticed Sean's presence. This earned her an amused look from her brother.

"C'mon, Dee, we all know you're on first name terms with a genius..." Sean then blushed, apparently having realised that he was interrupting. "I'm sorry, professor..."

"It is allright.", Zakharov said with a friendly smile before turning to Deirdre. "Deirdre, do you remember when Sean went with me, when I said I might call in a return favor sometime?" She nodded, and he continued: "It happens that I've collected a datapod that proves extremely difficult to decode. The Network Node can't even give us a possible solution... But Sean is a self-proclaimed master hacker and I think that - if his genius extends to this field of science as well - he stands a fairer chance than any other assistant at my base. I would have him stay longer." Deirdre smiled upon hearing him talk of his Network Node: they had only had a conversation about the use and uselessness of technology the day before.

"Technology has its imperfections, after all, Prokhor...", she said with a soft smile before turning to the matter at hand. "About the favor... I think it's okay, but what Eliza will say...?" At the mention of his fiancée, her brother's face showed a rapid succession of contrasting emotions, which showed he would like to stay. Deirdre sighed softly. "How much longer did you have in mind?" Now Zakharov smiled.

"They have been engaged for fifteen years now, a few more years would only be a continuation of the same." He added reassuringly: "But three years, and not a moment longer."

"I think she can live with that", Deirdre said, silently hoping that her best friend and soon-to-be sister-in-law would agree. "Nine o'clock?"

"Nine o'clock - as usual. The company keeps getting better every day."

"Same here." It was a joke that had slowly arisen from their almost-daily conversations over the commlink. "Bye then. Behave, Sean!" She signed off after Zakharov's almost customary wink, and with a smile mused on what had just transpired.

"My brother... a genius under the wings of a genius. But how will Eliza react when I tell her that I just agreed to my brother's staying three years longer to crack the encryption on a datapod?" A sudden sound startled her: looking up, she saw the door to her office close softly. A soft smile made its way onto her features. "Maybe I don't need to tell her anymore..."


	10. Realise

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, owning myself is difficult enough. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

(PS: I apologise for the lack of updates both yesterday and last week. I'm kinda busy with exams, papers and a masters' thesis, so... Expect no regular updates for at least a month. Sorry...)

10) Realise

In the three years that passed, much had happened except for Sean's cracking the encryption on the data pod. He had begun with enthusiasm, but even his strongest hacking attempts amounted to nothing: the data pod remained silent and stubborn.

"I'm sure of one thing, though...", Sean had said the day before, as he officially gave up all attempts of decryption on the thing. "It isn't broken or malfunctioning. Whatever that data pod holds, must be important..."

Zakharov had gotten exasperated with the thing, and he was now enjoying the calm of University Base as he had given all his scientists the day off – including himself. He was walking around the streets aimlessly, thinking about several things... mostly concerning Deirdre's last visit and the next one...

"Academician!" The voice startled him: in front of him stood Tamar, accompanied by three children. "I see you're spending your day brooding..."

"I'm surprised to meet you.", he said as he looked at her – she did look different when she wasn't wearing a lab coat – and smiled as he noticed her partially concerned look. "I was a bit preoccupied with my thoughts. I see you are taking a walk."

"Yeah, more like a walk to and from the recreation dome.", she said with a snicker as she motioned for the three children. "They have a day off from school and I got stuck dragging them around the city. They're absolute demons!", she said in mock exasperation. Then, noticing Zakharov raising an eyebrow in disbelief, she continued: "Oh, sure, to _you_ they put up an angelic face and say 'hello, sir' and 'yes, sir', but _I_ get to get dragged around the base for their enjoyment! By the way, their names are Aïcha, Natasha and Kevin. Kev, Tasha, Aïcha, this is Academician Zakharov – the man who leads the University, and my... um, boss, I guess?", she finished rather lamely. Zakharov smiled and bent down to get at the same level as the children, shaking their hands. "Well, I'd best be going.", Tamar said as Zakharov rose again. "I promised them I'd buy them ice cream..."

"There's an ice-cream parlor somewhere in the base!" Zakharov couldn't believe his ears. He looked around him incredulously.

"You should get out of your labs a bit more often.", Tamar remarked with a wink. "Why don't you come along? I don't think my kids will let you go now that you've confessed your love for ice cream..."

The day after, Zakharov found his thoughts pleasantly filled with the ice-cream parlor and the conversation with the children. The threesome had been curious: they had asked him anything and everything about his being a leader – "Is it really difficult to sit in an office and tell other people that they should do things?" – and his being a scientist – "Mom said you're really good at science... um, I think that was what she said...". He spent most of the time between ice-creams talking about minor incidents that happened occasionally and which he thought would interest the children: stuff blowing up, people getting sprayed with paint or slipping on oil stains. But the most interesting part of the afternoon had been when Tamar had left for the bathroom: the three had suddenly started talking about Deirdre.

"She comes here very often, to visit her brother – that's the guy that's living in our attic – and she looks so pretty and nice. Does she visit you when she's here, mister academician sir? Does she miss her brother much? Is she a scientist too, mom said she's a biologist..." He ended up telling them about their friendship and about how happy they had been to meet each other again after not having been sure the other had survived. But he had not hinted about his feelings for the Gaian lady.

Tamar had, in the meanwhile, entered – having noticed the vacant expression on her Academician's face and the silly grin he bore, she stood opposite him and smiled.

"Dreaming about a friend, Academician? ...My children told me the story of a wonderful friendship yesterday. Why not the sad love story?" Zakharov had looked up by then.

"They would have never let me go away then. 'Do you love Lady Deirdre! Ooh, does she love you too? Are you going to marry her, mister academician sir?' I wouldn't like to disappoint them – I don't see a marriage happening between us in the next fifty years..."

"Oh, don't give up hope, Academician. Maybe not tomorrow, no... but I can see you getting there." She grinned – it was the type of grin Zakharov had come to distrust over the years. But to his surprise, her expression turned into a serious one almost immediately. "We should get back to work, though. Imagine what the assistants would say when they saw their Academician slacking off..." Zakharov nodded and went to the cupboard to take his chart. He was supposed to be checking the Glow mite farms that were lined up along the walls. With the chart in his one hand and a pen in his others, he walked slowly to each glass box and checked its progress.

"Farm one... okay. Farm two... seems to be no activity. Glow mites might be sleeping... Farm three... hmm, this is interesting. This colony seems to have expanded, look here..." He pointed to a small entrance well away from the main entrance. "This could prove interesting...", he said as he began to note down his findings on the chart hurriedly. When he had reached the fifth farm, one of the doctors from the floor above walked inside.

"Academician, you're needed in the medical labs!", he said. Zakharov turned around, mildly surprised.

"What could they need me for?", he asked, nonplussed.

"I believe it is about Sean Skye's last blood test. The hematologists have made some discoveries – and they could pertain to you, too, Academician..."

It was a discovery indeed, he pondered the next day. Deirdre – having come to get Sean, seeing as the three years had passed - sat opposite him, next to Sean, and both were listening incredulously: Deirdre looked stunned by the information, while Sean merely seemed surprised.

"Explain again, I still don't quite get it...", Deirdre said slowly. Zakharov nodded and obliged.

"Sean's last blood test showed residues of an unknown enzyme in his blood. The doctors were startled, but they thought that it might be a mistake. Sean was asked for a second sample and the second test showed the same unknown enzyme in his blood. When the medical staff started to research the properties of the enzyme, they found out that that enzyme was only one of an entire cocktail. Sean's blood showed twice the normal amount of hormones in it – the bigger part of it being a hitherto unknown hormone which causes the body to renew itself constantly. This hormone has been named rejuvenadron – it indicates that the body is constantly being rejuvenated.

"Then, the doctors started searching for the source of the alien hormone, and found that our brain itself secretes it. That can only be done if the genetic material of our neurons has been changed. The cryogenic sleep must have altered our organisms – caused them to enter a state of agelessness...", Zakharov concluded. He sat silently, waiting for Deirdre's reaction – she was still trying to digest the information, by the looks of it. Sean slowly spoke his thoughts.

"Youth hormone... this could mean... Professor," he suddenly said while turning to his mentor, "did the doctors say anything about being able to synthetically create the hormone? Because if they could... we would have – I don't know – a longevity vaccine of sorts!" The young man's words hung in the air for a while as the tension suddenly culminated. Deirdre looked up in curiosity, her blue eyes directed at Zakharov, who found himself warmed by the fire that suddenly roared to life in his heart.

"The doctors know how I think of my agelessness", he said after a while, looking from Deirdre to Sean and back. "I consider it a nuisance, as you undoubtedly do yourselves. But I have given them permission to find a way to synthetically recreate the hormone, yes. It could have its useful applications." He smiled as he saw Sean nod – the young man had undoubtedly thought the same as he – and then turned to Deirdre. "Now, Deirdre, you said you have news as well?"

"I do, and I doubt it this news has useful applications as well...", she said darkly before explaining. "When you asked if Sean could stay a bit longer, three years ago, I was watching a documentary about Planet's native life on television. It was shot by an unmanned camera, placed in the middle of a fungus field. There was this colony of glow mites that came out at that moment, gathering spores that had been carried to the ground by the morning dew. Then, I noticed something funny. Some glow mites kept rubbing their antennae against the fungal stems. Suddenly, they retreated back into the ground – just in time to evade a pre-larval mind worm boil. I started thinking: what did the fungus do? How did it aid the glow mites in evading the mind worms? I planted some fungus in a few of the glow mite farms in my labs. One day, I placed a hidden camera and an electrometer in one of the farms with fungus in them. The results I got were mind-boggling. The fungus transmits electric pulses. The glow mites get these pulses via their antennae, and this way they are regulated by the fungus. But the fungus didn't only warn them for danger: it told them when they got food, when they were being observed... everything. The fungus, in short, works as our brain does: each fungal synapse resembling a neuron, each stem playing the part of a dendrite. And the spores seem to have taken on the role of neurotransmitters, for they ease the flow of the electric current from synapse to synapse..." Zakharov sat back in his chair, unable to fully believe what he heard. Had Deirdre just hinted at what he thought she had hinted?

"You are saying we live among a giant brain?"

"No, we're living _on_ a giant brain. The fungus extends into the soil as well. But I've only measured electric currents in a contained environment so far...", Deirdre said in defense of her results, "There's no telling what we might find when we measure the actual fungus forests out there. Plus, I don't think it's like our brain. There seems to be no sentience. The fungus manages, but doesn't seem to manipulate." Zakharov could only hope she was right – but he tried to put the disturbing thoughts as far away in his mind as he could by suggesting a game of chess. The remainder of the evening, no one seemed to give the two revelations any more thought and they talked of small things. Zakharov reported his ice cream adventure with a faint trace of the grin he had had the previous day and Deirdre told of her newest biocreations.

And soon it was time for Deirdre and Sean to leave. Deirdre winked as she said goodbye, and reminded Zakharov again of the wedding that would take place in another month – she had been driven crazy by the preparations, as she would always complain during their conversations though she liked the prospect of her little brother finally taking the big step. He watched from his window as the group – Deirdre, Sean, and the few guards that had been waiting in the guards' quarters near the entrance – made their way along the main street.

And then, suddenly, Deirdre turned around and looked up at the building – at him. Sean pulled her along, but she seemed unwilling...

And Zakharov found his heart doing overtime again, while in his mind a battle was waged between emotions and reason – but now emotion seemed to have the upper hand...

University logs / private logs / P.L. Zakharov, academician - entry 19/12/2133

_I cannot have imagined it. Deirdre definitely turned around tonight, and hesitated. She seemed unwilling to leave as well – Sean practically had to drag her to the gates. But why did she hesitate? I can only guess. Would she really... can it be?

* * *

_

Deirdre found that the three years without Sean were next to unbearable: she was now missing her brother's presence so much that her trips to University Base were monthly. Her daily conversations with Zakharov were soothing, but they were sometimes cut short by Eliza, who demanded that she could speak to Sean too. Deirdre gladly gave in – they were engaged, after all, and she hadn't actually consulted her friend when she decided to allow Sean to stay longer than expected.

It had been, by then, almost a year ago that Deirdre had taken Eliza along on one of her visits to University Base. She had introduced Eliza to Zakharov and then spoke of the daily happenings at her own base. When she wanted to ask Eliza something, she had disappeared along with Sean: Deirdre had been deeply ashamed as she thought where the two could have gone off to and she had apparently blushed a deep shade of red for her friend offered her a cool drink with an amused-worried look on his face. The two hadn't reappeared until after the third game of chess, both looking a bit embarrassed. Deirdre had scolded Eliza for running off, but then Eliza told Deirdre that they would have to start planning the wedding – it had startled Deirdre into a silence that had lasted until she spoke to Zakharov the next day. The Academician had laughed – Deirdre found his laugh soothing and in the end, she had joined him with her own soft giggles. He had told her it was only normal, and had been rational and very fatherly as he told her she shouldn't worry or be shocked. 'After all, they _are_ adults...', Deirdre thought, using Zakharov's exact words. She was looking at samples of table cloth for the wedding together with Eliza: the preparations were nearing their end since they only had a little over a month left until the big day.

"What do you think about this one?", Eliza said as she showed Deirdre a green tablecloth with a pattern of little white flowers around the rim. Deirdre looked at it, then slowly shook her head.

"Nah, your tables'd look like they're covered by a meadow. Tablecloths should have soft colours, in order to not distract the attention of how beautiful you'll look..." She winked as Eliza blushed softly. "How about this one?", she said as she showed a soft pink sample with a pattern of lilacs.

"Oh, ugh, no pink!", Eliza exclaimed, and Deirdre smiled. "Sean would throw a fit! ...This one?" Deirdre looked at the sample: a cream-colored one with a pattern of lilies around the edge.

"...Sean has always liked lilies...", she slowly said, awestruck by the fact that Eliza picked out those things that would have Sean's approval. 'It's moments like this one that show she's perfect for my little brother...', she mused as Eliza set to work to remove all the samples from the table, keeping the one she liked aside.

"Oh, we're already finished! ...How about a cup of coffee and a cookie?" Eliza produced a pot of coffee from thin air and then went off to get some cookies. "We still have about an hour or so left until we're needed back in the labs..."

"Okay. ...You know," Deirdre said as she sipped her coffee, "I still can't believe that you're getting married. I still see Sean as my baby brother, I guess, and you as that inquisitive little girl of the early days."

"Well, you are possibly the one person that I love as much as I do my own mother, Lady Deirdre. And you're like a mother to Sean. ...That would make you like a mother-in-law to me.", she added with a grin.

"Oh, please no! A mother-in-law before I'm old!" Deirdre and Eliza both giggled, and then Deirdre turned to her best friend/aide with a smile on her face. "Well, how does it feel to be on the highway to marriage? ...I hope to be married one day too, so tell me all about it..."

The next day, Deirdre was busy doing what she had to do – but meanwhile she was thinking of her upcoming visit to University Base. A visit which would probably be her last for a long time, for she was going there to get Sean and bring him back with her to the base. She chuckled as she remembered several assistants joking about having to prepare themselves for the end of their quietude. She had not even scolded them, she recalled, pausing momentarily from her dull task: instead, she herself had laughed as merrily as the others and had commented that she had to make the most drastic changes.

The sound of footsteps broke her train of thoughts and she returned to the job at hand: checking up on the glow mite farms that had been altered, either by adding fungus or by changing the soil.

"Okay... the altered farms are farms four, five, ten and, um, twelve... Okay, four: no perceptible changes, apparently... The colony still seems active, but they haven't done anything with the new soil. Farm five... Okay, this colony seems to be dead...", she said as she saw no movement among the small glow mites. "This'll have to be replaced..." Farm ten, in which fungus had been planted, seemed to thrive, though Deirdre saw no glow mites scurry to and fro like in the other farms. "Hmm, odd... I should lift the lid and check what's going on." She took the handle and pulled the glass lid off. "Okay, let's see if they're hiding in the- ouch!" She quickly pulled back the hand she had extended to the fungus: she had clearly felt the sharp but harmless sting of electricity. "Static electricity? That can't be... Well, if it was, I shouldn't get a second shock... Ouch!" She did get another small jolt, and was now silently pondering what it could mean. 'Electrically charged fungus? Why? ...I need to measure this...' Moving to one of the cupboards, she rummaged about for a while until she found what she needed. She set up filming equipment in a hidden position opposite the farm, and connected an electrometer to the fungus stems. 'I want to know where this electricity comes from and what it does, what purposes it serves...', she thought as she flicked the light switch and exited. The filming equipment automatically switched to infrared mode, she knew, and she was anxious to see what the results of her little investigation were...

And two days later, when she looked at the video of the farm's activity and saw the electrometer output, thoughts that she didn't even dare acknowledge she had were suddenly proven to be very realistic...

She sat in Zakharov's private quarters, pondering her 'grand revelation' and how to tell her friend when he started talking about his own new findings. Deirdre's mind was very efficiently diverted from her own worries.

"Explain again, I still don't quite get it...", she said slowly as she was trying to get a grip on what he had just told her. Her friend nodded and obliged with a smile.

"Sean's last blood test showed residues of an unknown enzyme in his blood. The doctors were startled, but they thought that it might be a mistake. Sean was asked for a second sample and the second test showed the same unknown enzyme in his blood. When the medical staff started to research the properties of the enzyme, they found out that that enzyme was only one of an entire cocktail. Sean's blood showed twice the normal amount of hormones in it – the bigger part of it being a hitherto unknown hormone which causes the body to renew itself constantly. This hormone has been named rejuvenadron – it indicates that the body is constantly being rejuvenated.

"Then, the doctors started searching for the source of the alien hormone, and found that our brain itself secretes it. That can only be done if the genetic material of our neurons has been changed. The cryogenic sleep must have altered our organisms – caused them to enter a state of agelessness...". Deirdre knew what it meant. Her body, his body, that of Sean and perhaps countless other people – their DNA had mutated through the severe manipulation that cryosleep was in essence. She looked at Sean, who was slowly voicing his thoughts.

"Youth hormone... this could mean... Professor," he suddenly said while turning to his mentor, "did the doctors say anything about being able to synthetically create the hormone? Because if they could... we would have – I don't know – a longevity vaccine of sorts!" Sean's words hung in the laden silence as Zakharov pondered his response – Deirdre found herself looking at him inquisitively, curious about his thoughts on the matter.

"The doctors know how I think of my agelessness", the older scientist said after a while, looking from Deirdre to Sean and back. "I consider it a nuisance, as you undoubtedly do yourselves. But I have given them permission to find a way to synthetically recreate the hormone, yes. It could have its useful applications." Sean nodded, clearly appeased with the words of his mentor, but Zakharov himself now turned to her. "Now, Deirdre, you said you have news as well?"

"I do, and I doubt it this news has useful applications as well...", she said darkly before explaining. "When you asked if Sean could stay a bit longer, three years ago, I was watching a documentary about Planet's native life on television. It was shot by an unmanned camera, placed in the middle of a fungus field. There was this colony of glow mites that came out at that moment, gathering spores that had been carried to the ground by the morning dew. Then, I noticed something funny. Some glow mites kept rubbing their antennae against the fungal stems. Suddenly, they retreated back into the ground – just in time to evade a pre-larval mind worm boil. I started thinking: what did the fungus do? How did it aid the glow mites in evading the mind worms? I planted some fungus in a few of the glow mite farms in my labs. One day, I placed a hidden camera and an electrometer in one of the farms with fungus in them. The results I got were mind-boggling. The fungus transmits electric pulses. The glow mites get these pulses via their antennae, and this way they are regulated by the fungus. But the fungus didn't only warn them for danger: it told them when they got food, when they were being observed... everything. The fungus, in short, works as our brain does: each fungal synapse resembling a neuron, each stem playing the part of a dendrite. And the spores seem to have taken on the role of neurotransmitters, for they ease the flow of the electric current from synapse to synapse..."

"You are saying we live among a giant brain?", Zakharov said, his look betraying extreme discomfort just thinking about it.

"No, we're living _on_ a giant brain. The fungus extends into the soil as well. But I've only measured electric currents in a contained environment so far...", Deirdre said, wanting to place the results in their proper context, "There's no telling what we might find when we measure the actual fungus forests out there. Plus, I don't think it's like our brain. There seems to be no sentience. The fungus manages, but doesn't seem to manipulate." 'At least, that's what I will continue to believe until my further tests prove otherwise', she added and shuddered. Zakharov's suggestion of a game of chess was more than welcome, and the new discoveries were soon forgotten as they lapsed back into their old habits. Zakharov told merrily of having eaten ice cream again and having had a miraculously joyous conversation with the children of one of his finest assistants – Deirdre smiled as she heard him tell of the children's charming ways – and she in return told of her new attempts to make plants adapt to Planet's ecological system, which oddly ended up either as funny failures or as surprising successes. It seemed, as always, that she had to leave too soon: when the moment came, she found herself reacting lightly by saying her goodbye as she always did, with a wink. She did, however, remind him of Sean's wedding – she knew her friend's memory from on board the space ship and thus knew he was prone to forgetfulness. He thanked her for it and assured her he wouldn't forget, which made her make a mental note to remind him again the next week.

But there was something different: something inside her was protesting, struggling to gain control over her mind. The voice of protest grew louder and louder with every step she took. She was at the ground level... – 'Go back...' - outside, crossing the main street... – 'You have to go back...' - walking away from the main building, walking away from Zakharov...

'Prokhor...', Deirdre thought as she suddenly felt the voice of protest grow too loud for her to ignore any longer. She turned around, looking up to the windows where she knew he would be standing as he watched her leave – and then realisation hit her, and it hit her hard. 'I don't want to leave, I want to go back... because I...'

"Dee, c'mon... No need to go missing him already – you'll see him in a month anyway...", Sean said, casting her an odd look as he tugged on her hand, beckoning her to follow him and the guards on their way back. She followed them, but not entirely willingly any more.

Gaia's Landing - private files - Lady Deirdre Skye - diary, 19/12/2133

_I've been blind, dumb and deaf for years – lulled asleep by the distance between me and him, perhaps – but now I have finally realised it myself. I love Prokhor. But I know it's too late... He may have loved me then, but after so many years... it's impossible that he still loves me now, not after so many years..._


	11. Conceal

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, though I am interested in owning Zakharov (giggles). I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

11) Conceal

Zakharov had been in a good mood ever since Deirdre had last visited, and people were left to wonder what could possibly have happened to make their morose and introverted leader become sociable and optimistic all of a sudden. There was one, however, who didn't have to resort to guesswork.

"What are you thinking about, Academician? No doubt about something Lady Skye did on her last visit. So tell me, what has she done to lift your spirits directly into heaven?" Tamar had joined her friend in the physics laboratory, where he was supposed to be testing the new Silksteel alloys for their durability but instead was enjoying a particularly beautiful daydream in which Deirdre came back to him and... 'I really think I shouldn't think those things about Deirdre until she is actually in my arms...', Zakharov thought as he turned to the assistant.

"Well... I was thinking about Deirdre, yes. Last time she visited..." Zakharov told Tamar of the conversation, the goodbye and of her ambiguous turning around. "She really did seem reluctant to leave..." He then saw the serious look on the face of his assistant – serious and morose. "What do you think it means?"

"Well...", she answered hesitantly, "It could mean anything. Maybe she loves you, maybe she thought of something she needed to say to you, maybe she just looked back to see you standing there... But I can tell you this," she added as she saw Zakharov's face fall, "if it were me, _I_ would only have turned around because something inside me didn't want to go back and leave you..." Zakharov was silent for a while as he thought of Tamar's wise words – then his grin slowly returned.

"The least it means is that she does miss me. That she appreciates my friendship and closeness. That will be enough for now. And besides...", he added as his grin took on a devious quality, "I will see her again in only a few weeks..."

"Hmm, I think I'll like meeting the great Lady Skye in person – not to mention the great love of the Academician...", Tamar said with a grin that rivalled her friend's: as he turned to her, surprised, she produced from one of the pockets of her lab coat a letter in a soft green envelope. Zakharov recognised it immediately: that same letter had been delivered the same day by a Gaian courier, who had been in quite a hurry by the looks of it. He smiled as he overcame his initial surprise. 'She has housed him, fed him, been his friend for thirteen years, during which he was away from all that is familiar to him. She has certainly deserved an invitation.'

"Well, maybe then you'll see how radiant and divine she is...", Zakharov said with a wink.

"I probably will only see a girl, for my standards...", Tamar remarked off-handedly, since she herself had already passed the age of fifty: her children showed signs of slow growth, and so did she – but her face was already falling prey to wrinkles and the grey in her hair was unmistakeable. "But enough about weddings – we're supposed to be testing our new alloys here..." Zakharov raised an eyebrow as the both of them turned to work again, but he still smiled a warm smile – one that originated straight from his heart.

The weeks before the wedding passed quickly. Deirdre's commlink conversations were remarkably airy and yet very moving. Mostly, the subject of their conversations was the upcoming wedding, and the role that Deirdre played in the preparations. Zakharov listened to her with a smile: he comforted her when she was having a hard time, he listened to her complaints and her happy remarks. But he found himself wishing increasingly that he was with her, and not miles away – the commlink screen proved more of a frustration than ever. 'Well, at least I will be able to talk to her face to face for a few days...', he mused as he was being escorted by Gaian troops together with Tamar, who sat in the recon rover with a rather sickly expression. After an hour's worth of travelling, they arrived at Gaia's Landing and Zakharov found himself once again awed by the beauteous city he had come to cherish. It had grown since his last visit, like a forest: the existing houses had grown taller and had gotten more balconies, and several new houses had sprouted between them. He skilfully guided Tamar through the city and halted in front of the forest, still walled in but with trees outside of the walls as well now. Tamar read the plaque with tears in her eyes: she, too, remembered Earth and still felt the tragedy sting in her heart. She followed him, albeit slowly, and stood still to marvel at times: but when she reached the main building of the city, she was definitely struck dumb. Besides the almost impossible height of twenty floors in a very organic-looking structure, it was the most beautiful building of them all. And perhaps, Zakharov mused silently as he saw Deirdre approach them from inside, it was because of their Lady that the Gaians seemed to care for this one building more.

"Prokhor! How wonderful to see you again! ...A month is still too long for friends as close as we are, isn't it?", she asked, extending her hand and blushing profusely when he placed a kiss on it – 'she's not blushed like that since the first time I kissed her hand...', he found himself thinking, but quickly dismissed the thought. "Oh, and you must be miss Mirasevic...", Deirdre said quickly as she turned to Tamar, who had looked on amusedly. "You're alone? I thought Sean said that the invitation extended to your husband as well..." Zakharov tried to persuade himself that he had only imagined the jealousy in her voice, but found his heart too elated to listen to reason.

"No, my husband is still at work, he couldn't get a day off today – he will be here in a few hours, though, and I have his stuff with me as well."

"Oh, okay... just a bit concerned, that's all." 'Were you really?', Zakharov found a voice in his mind say. "Oh, but I'm forgetting my manners – come inside, please!" She opened the doors for them and they walked in. The first floor was still used as a laboratory, apparently, and it made Zakharov feel at home immediately. The hustle and bustle was soothing to the turmoil that had arisen in his heart. "This is the lab part of the building – this floor houses the engineering and the chemistry, the next floor houses physics and information technology, and the third and fourth floor house the biology and xenobiology labs. The guest quarters – well, what will serve as guest quarters, anyway...", Deirdre said with a shy giggle that made Tamar raise an eyebrow, "...is on the tenth floor, right above the library. The eleventh through eighteenth floor are just offices, and the nineteenth and twentieth floor are my office and private quarters. Okay, miss Mirasevic, you will be put up in the guest quarters. Through here..." Deirdre guided them to an elevator which brought them to the tenth floor very quickly – Zakharov found himself wishing that the elevator had taken longer so he could enjoy Deirdre's proximity more. Deirdre walked out and pushed open a door tentatively. "Here you go, miss Mirasevic. It's not much, but it's the best I can offer you at the moment. There's still no hotel in this base, and..."

"It's wonderful...", Tamar said, awestruck. Zakharov, too, admired the beauty of the apartment: it had a large sitting room and a separated bedroom with bathroom attached. Both of the rooms had large windows, through which a magnificent view on the city and the landscape was visible. On the other side, a small kitchen was present, the cupboards of which had been filled with small food items. "Well, I won't be hungry...", she said.

"If you are interested in a meal which takes less time and costs as much as this one, try the restaurant across this building. They serve a good dish and it will cost you nothing if you mention you're my guests. I'm glad you like it anyway... I'll arrange for someone to bring your husband upstairs when he arrives. Okay, Prokhor, you'll be staying a bit closer to me...", she said with a small blush as she turned to him. He raised an eyebrow as he wondered what she could mean by that, but his question was soon answered: she went back to the elevators, but instead took another one where she dialled in a code. As soon as the code was accepted, the elevator opened and took them immediately to the twentieth floor, where the first thing he noticed was a living room the size of his biggest lab. She sighed as she walked out of the elevator, explaining as they walked to a corridor visible on the right. "The guest quarters Tamar is now occupying were intended to be for my assistant, but seeing as my assistant turned out to be living with her family still and has her own house now... You'll be staying in Sean's old room. We're awfully short on guest rooms!", she said in her own defense as he looked at her, at a loss for words. 'Oh gods, so close to her...', he thought as they walked into the corridor, where she walked up to a door at the farthest left. As she opened it, Zakharov was surprised to see a spacious but comfy room with all possible means of comfort: a television, a desk, and shelves full of books about physics which were all conspicuously from Earth.

"This room is nice...", he made out as he moved inside, putting his bags down next to the bed. "I don't see why Sean ever chose to move out here..."

"Well, he might never have if he hadn't met Eliza.", Deirdre said with an appreciative smile. "I guess it's the typical scientist's room, crammed with books that no other person would read. ...Okay, I'll let you unpack...", Deirdre suddenly said as she walked hesitantly over to the door again: Zakharov hadn't even noticed her getting closer until she spoke again. "I was planning on cooking myself tonight... but if you like – and if it's your treat – we can go eat in the restaurant I mentioned. Oh, and just tell me what you'd like for breakfast tomorrow morning. I have almost everything, just no bacon."

"I would love to taste a sample of your cooking...", Zakharov replied with a soft smile, "And if you just give me some orange juice and a bit of bread and cheese, I'll be fine." Deirdre nodded with a faint blush and made to close the door, but then she seemed to remember something and opened the door again.

"Oh, that's right! You have no bathroom of your own. It's the door right in front of this one when you exit. The door that's just a bit more to the right of the bathroom is off limits."

"Oh, and why might that be? Hiding something?", Zakharov said in a playful tone – but Deirdre's blush deepened and she nearly stammered out the answer.

"N-no, not at all, but it's just that that's my room...", she said hastily before closing the door, leaving Zakharov alone with his thoughts. 'Hmm... what if I walk in deliberately?... Oh, stop it, Prokhor, she was embarrassed enough as it was... But maybe...'

Dinner that night had been exquisite, and Zakharov found himself doubting that the restaurant she had talked about could present food of equal quality. It had been a simple meal, but her cooking had made it a feast: she had skilfully set to work with various herbs and spices, and the result had been stunning.

"I should visit more often...", Zakharov said as he brought his empty dish to the dishwasher. "You're an excellent cook. A great addition to the talents I had already found in you." 'And perhaps there are other talents yet to find... Oh, thinking things like that will _not_ help!' His mental scolding did keep his thoughts clean for the remainder of the evening he spent with her, watching a television programme about sea colonisation. But when they had said goodnight and went to their rooms, the thoughts returned – even more so when he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and walked into her outside. She was apparently only wearing a bathrobe – 'how would she look minus that bathrobe, eh?' – and moved to her own room swiftly when she saw him, failing miserably in concealing her profuse blush. He returned to his room with only her on his mind, and in his dreams...

----dream sequence----

"_Oh Prokhor, how could I not have seen? I love you so much..." Deirdre was lying in his arms, looking as radiant and pure as ever and wearing remarkably little as he felt the softness of her skin against his hands._

"_Deirdre, I love you too, more than you can imagine..." He embraced her tightly, relishing the feeling of her silken hair against his cheek and the feeling of her hands as they lay softly on his own._

"_I can't believe you didn't tell me...", Deirdre said – her voice was as silky and smooth as her body..._

_...and then the whispering voice came back... Deirdre turned around, and slowly she disappeared from his mind and there was only cold darkness where she had been._

"_earthzakharov... earthzakharov you?"_

"_Yes, I'm Zakharov. Who is this?"_

"_planetvoice us you may call. Warn you we come. Beware you growth dream."_

"_Growth dream? Warn me? What about?"_

"_earthbeings planet harm bring: fungus kill, planet wound, planetbeings kill they! Growth dream end this will."_

"_Why are you telling me this, planetvoice?"_

"_Why! Dream word! Earthzakharov dream song sing! Why why why why why why why why why..." The voice persists and fills his head until..._

---------

...he awoke with a hand pressed to his forehead, bathing in sweat. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing what to think of it – and not wanting to think of it at all anymore. With a sigh, he turned around and fell asleep again – but his sleep remained dreamless...

* * *

Deirdre was fiercely focusing on the upcoming wedding: Eliza couldn't help but marvel at the newfound vigour of her friend and soon to be sister-in-law, and Sean smiled as she threw herself into her work – though both did look a bit worried when they encountered her early in the morning, fatigued and buried in files.

The truth was that she didn't want to be left with her thoughts: ever since she had realised that her heart was lost to her old friend, Deirdre had been having thoughts about him holding her in a way that was unfit for friends – and that was only how most of her recent daydreams began... She shivered mentally as yet another daydream of Zakharov crept up in her mind and exploited her depleted energy.

"What's the matter, Lady Deirdre? You look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep for days!" Deirdre lazily opened one eye and saw Eliza stand in front of her, her expression worried.

"That could be true, though I sleep for eight hours every night..."

"Bad dreams? Isn't the digital personal assistant functioning properly?" Sean had indeed manufactured her a new personal assistant which she mainly used to record her dreams and get bothersome things off her mind – but this wasn't something a machine could alleviate...

"No, it's working perfectly fine, but... well, can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure..." Eliza looked nonplussed – 'Blessed are the ignorant... but she won't remain ignorant for long...', Deirdre thought with a wry smile – and sat down opposite Deirdre. "Speak away."

"It's Prokhor – er, Academician Zakharov. Sean might've told you of the closeness and nature of our friendship." As the young woman in front of her shook her head, she filled her in: "The Academician and I were co-workers on board the space ship, and we had become close friends. He, in fact, had more than friendly feelings for me..."

"He's in love with you!" Eliza looked incredulous. "Well, that _would_ explain the hand-kissing business..."

"Well, Sean might've told you of my last visit to University Base, when I went to pick him up.", she said with a blush. "I suddenly felt I couldn't leave: I felt something inside me protest for some reason. When I looked round, it hit me: my heart was trying to stop me from leaving, and the reason... I've fallen in love with my best friend...", she said in a half-whisper. Eliza looked at her for a moment, her expression bewildered, and then she slowly rose.

"Lady Deirdre, why are you sad, then? You love him and he loves you-"

"No, he _loved_ me. I don't know if he still loves me now... but I fear he doesn't anymore. It's been too long..." Deirdre stared at her feet for a moment while trying to overcome the intense emotions that were raging inside her heart. "I won't risk our friendship just over some stupid infatuation. I broke his heart back then by not loving him... I won't allow mine to be broken in the same way.", she said as she, too, rose. "I'm going to take a shower and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she left before giving her friend a chance to react. She told herself, while she rushed to the elevator, that it was because she was exhausted and needed to see her bed ASAP. But she knew that was a lie: she had hurried because she was afraid of what Eliza might have said in response...

The next few weeks went by without any incidents, although Eliza had a sad look on her face whenever Deirdre was working together with her. She understood Deirdre's unwillingness to go into the subject any more, though, and remained silent about it. They talked of the wedding and of the little things of life, instead, which Deirdre found appeasing.

And then, the day of Zakharov's arrival had come. She sent some recon rover troops over to University Base to pick them up and spent the day anxiously awaiting their return with her guests – or rather, Sean's guests. Deirdre looked at the two other names Sean had given her.

"Iljan and Tamar Mirasevic...", she spoke into the emptiness of her office, thinking of the origins of the name and getting no further than 'Eastern European'. Her personal assistant was being projected next to her, and she smiled her usual smile.

"_Hello, Lady Skye, how are you? Don't you look astonishing?"_

"Hello, E-Liza..." An inside joke from Sean: Deirdre had complained about having to miss Eliza as a personal assistant and her brother – natural born prankster – had given her an exact digital replica of his bride-to-be, which listened to the name E-Liza. "I'm just a bit anxious, that's all...", she said with a smile.

"_Good to hear that you're still doing fine. Are you waiting for someone?"_

"Prokhor, and some of Sean's friends from University Base. But I don't think I'll be needing you. You can sign off for the day. Enjoy your rest – maybe go to the recreation dome...", she said with a devious grin.

"_No, the other holopersons there tease me... Bye then!"_ She knew her digital assistant didn't like the recreation dome – therefore she always suggested it to tease her. It alleviated her anxiety for a while.

And then, she saw the troops return, and her heart began working overtime again. She descended quickly and awaited their coming in the main hall of the ground floor: and when she saw them approach – when she saw Zakharov near – she felt her nerves tingle... She tried desperately to keep a straight face while walking towards him and his assistant, who was left speechless by the sight of the building in front of her.

"Prokhor! How wonderful to see you again! ...A month is still too long for friends as close as we are, isn't it?", she asked, extending her hand and blushing profusely when he placed a kiss on it – 'oh gods, I feel like I'm on fire!', she thought as she felt the blood rise rapidly to her cheeks. "Oh, and you must be miss Mirasevic...", Deirdre said quickly as she turned to his assistant, willing her blush to fade. "You're alone? I thought Sean said that the invitation extended to your husband as well..." Her voice had a tinge of jealousy in it – even she herself noticed.

"No, my husband is still at work, he couldn't get a day off today – he will be here in a few hours, though, and I have his stuff with me as well.", the older woman replied, and Deirdre relaxed.

"Oh, okay... just a bit concerned, that's all." 'Concerned, yeah right...', she heard a voice say within her. She then remembered that she was supposed to be showing them their quarters. "Oh, but I'm forgetting my manners – come inside, please!" She opened the doors for them and they walked in. Deirdre saw a look of tranquility cross her friend's face, and she smiled softly, glad that he still felt at home in her most beloved place of the city – save perhaps the walled-in forest. "This is the lab part of the building – this floor houses the engineering and the chemistry, the next floor houses physics and information technology, and the third and fourth floor house the biology and xenobiology labs. The guest quarters – well, what will serve as guest quarters, anyway...", Deirdre said with a shy giggle as she tried to conceal her embarrassment, "...is on the tenth floor, right above the library. The eleventh through eighteenth floor are just offices, and the nineteenth and twentieth floor are my office and private quarters. Okay, miss Mirasevic, you will be put up in the guest quarters. Through here..." She made her way through the various halls and went to the elevators. She took the middle elevator of the three as that was the one that led to the tenth floor and up. When the doors slid open again, Deirdre walked out first and pushed open double doors at the end of a small corridor. "Here you go, miss Mirasevic. It's not much, but it's the best I can offer you at the moment. There's still no hotel in this base, and..."

"It's wonderful...", the older woman said. Deirdre smiled as she gave her a quick tour of the apartment and showed off her work – she had decorated the place. "Well, I won't be hungry...", Tamar said as she saw the various food items in the kitchen cupboards – items which Deirdre had purchased the day before. She found herself smiling.

"If you are interested in a meal which takes less time and costs as much as this one, try the restaurant across this building. They serve a good dish and it will cost you nothing if you mention you're my guests. I'm glad you like it anyway... I'll arrange for someone to bring your husband upstairs when he arrives. Okay, Prokhor, you'll be staying a bit closer to me...", she said, now truly starting to feel strained – her heart was still doing cartwheels and her insides felt oddly absent. She went back to the elevators and now chose the one on the far right, dialling her personal code and waiting for the elevator to arrive and take them up to the twentieth floor. As they exited the elevator – Zakharov looked around at her private quarters in obvious awe – she sighed and walked over to the corridor at the farther end of the room. . "The guest quarters Tamar is now occupying were intended to be for my assistant, but seeing as my assistant turned out to be living with her family still and has her own house now... You'll be staying in Sean's old room. We're awfully short on guest rooms!", she said, defending herself as Zakharov looked at her, obviously at a loss for words. 'It's not as if I _planned_ this... did I?', she thought to herself and wished there was no voice issuing from her heart telling her that she did plan it. She walked through the corridor and opened the door in order to show him the room. 'If he doesn't want to stay this close to me, where will I put him?' Lucky for her, Zakharov seemed immediately charmed by the room that once was her brother's.

"This room is nice...", her friend said slowly as he walked inside and put his bags down next to the bed. "I don't see why Sean ever chose to move out here..."

"Well, he might never have if he hadn't met Eliza.", Deirdre said with an appreciative smile. "I guess it's the typical scientist's room, crammed with books that no other person would read." She noticed herself nearing her friend involuntarily, and had to will herself to stop and to walk back to the door. "...Okay, I'll let you unpack...", Deirdre said, feeling the inner turmoil return to her full force. "I was planning on cooking myself tonight... but if you like – and if it's your treat – we can go eat in the restaurant I mentioned. Oh, and just tell me what you'd like for breakfast tomorrow morning. I have almost everything, just no bacon."

"I would love to taste a sample of your cooking...", Zakharov replied with a soft smile, "And if you just give me some orange juice and a bit of bread and cheese, I'll be fine." She nodded, cursing the fact that every single compliment he gave her seemed to make her blush. And then, just as she had nearly closed the door, she remembered that she had to tell him something else.

"Oh, that's right! You have no bathroom of your own. It's the door right in front of this one when you exit. The door that's just a bit more to the right of the bathroom is off limits."

"Oh, and why might that be? Hiding something?", Zakharov said – 'he's teasing me!' – causing Deirdre to blush even more profusely and stammer a response.

"N-no, not at all, but it's just that that's my room...", she said hastily before closing the door, leaving her friend. 'Oh Christ...', she thought as she went over to her living room and sat down in one of the sofas. 'I wish I had more guest quarters... I wish we had built a hotel in this city...' She sighed and found her mind suddenly turning its thoughts elsewhere. 'I wish we could make out now...' Groaning at the thoughts that invaded her mind, she sank even deeper into the sofa...

Cooking dinner had relieved her mind temporarily, and she seemed to have better cooking skills than she suspected as she had wowed her friend by her preparation of chicken fillet with sweet-and-sour sauce and rice. 'Mom, I'll be forever grateful of your cooking lessons...', she found herself thinking as she watched Zakharov eat his portion slowly. She herself had already finished her portion, yet she was waiting for him to finish, as courtesy dictated.

"I should visit more often...", Zakharov said as he brought his empty dish to the dishwasher along with her. "You're an excellent cook. A great addition to the talents I had already found in you." She found herself wishing that he _would_ come by more often – 'If it's only for my cooking skills, then so be it – but I'd love for him to come over and... Oh, Dee, this is _never_ going to work...' Trying desperately to get him off her mind, she turned on the television and spent the evening watching a documentary about sea colonisation with him before heading off to her room – and leaving him to go to his – to get ready for the night. She took a quick shower and brushed her teeth, relishing the feeling of the hot water on her skin. It did help her take her mind off her worries... but as she exited the bathroom, she promptly ran into the cause of her worries, who was wearing his pyjamas and looked equally stunned. 'He looks very good for a man his age... very handsome... oh god, I can't believe I just thought that!', she thought as she quickly fled into her room. With her worries again full on her mind, she fell into an uneasy sleep, and in her dreams...

----dream sequence----

"_Oh Prokhor, how could I not have seen? I love you so much..." She was lying in Zakharov's arms, relishing the feeling of his cool hands on her skin and enjoying the feeling of his proximity._

"_Deirdre, I love you too, more than you can imagine..." He embraced her tightly, and she put her hands over his own, relaxing as he held her against him. She was close enough to him to smell his cologne: she liked the scent, it made her head spin._

"_I can't believe you didn't tell me...", Deirdre said – he replied with a smile that set her heart on fire..._

_...and then the whispering voice came back... Zakharov's warmth and presence faded away until she was alone in the cold darkness of another invaded dream._

"_earthdeirdre... earthdeirdre you?"_

"_Yes, I'm Deirdre, Deirdre Skye of the Gaians. Who is this?"_

"_planetvoice us you may call. Warn you we come. Beware you growth dream."_

"_Growth dream? Warn me?"_

"_earthbeings planet harm bring: fungus kill, planet wound, planetbeings kill they! Growth dream end this will."_

"_Why are you telling me this, planetvoice?"_

"_Why! Dream word! Earthdeirdre dream song sing too! Why why why why why why why why why..." The voice grew in pitch and volume, until it had become nerve-wracking and..._

---------

...she sat bolt upright, wide awake, her hands tightly clapped over her ears. Slowly, as she realised that the darkness around her was different from the one in the dream, she let go and sank back into the pillow, only faintly taking notice of her sweat-drenched nightgown and pillow before falling back asleep – a dreamless sleep...

**A/N: sorry for the long long loooooooooong lack of updates. My home computer crashed, leaving me without story at home, and I had forgotten to bring my backup CD from university with me. Basically, that's why it's been so long. I'm still working on chapter 15, but I'll soon finish it. Classes start again at September 25th, so I'll try to keep a nice and tidy update schedule... but I won't make any promises (who knows what this computer is plotting against me...)**

Anyway, for those interested, check out my new story. Part of a trilogy, this one. Go check it over at the Lufia section.  



	12. Suppress

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, though I am interested in owning Zakharov (giggles). I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

12) Suppress.

Zakharov awoke from the sound of a closing door: slowly opening one eye, he looked up and saw a tray laden with food items stand on the table: there was tea, orange juice, three sandwiches, a few slices of cheese, some jam, a hardboiled egg and a spoon, and a small piece of chocolate. 'She's spoiling me!', his mind voiced gleefully as he awoke immediately and set himself down in front of the plate. He ate slowly, taking his time – his watch told him that it was only eight thirty, so he would still have plenty of time to get ready. In the meanwhile, he was listening to the occasional wisps of conversation that were carried his way from the living room.

"...usual dream, when... ...introduced as... 'planetvoice'... ...told of a 'growth dream'... ...voice grew... high-pitched and... ...woke up with..." He quickly put on his lab coat over his pyjamas and went to return the now-empty tray, silently wondering who it was that Deirdre was talking to. As he entered the living room, he immediately saw who it was – and it also solved the mystery of there being no answers. Deirdre, dressed in a luxurious-looking robe over deep green pyjamas, stood with her back to him, in front of a holoprojection that obviously served as her new assistant.

"...the day will progress smoothly, I hope."

"_Okay, Lady. I'll leave you now, maybe take a walk in the Paradise Garden... You have a visitor, by the way. Looks like a scientist... Bye!"_ The holoprojection faded from view and Deirdre turned around.

"Hello, Prokhor! ...Was the breakfast good?", she said, motioning for him to set the plate down in the kitchen, which he did.

"It was the best I've had yet.", he replied, truthfully – he pleased himself at University Base with two plain cheese sandwiches every morning, thus he could count his breakfast in Gaia's Landing as a feast. "How long do we still have?"

"Well... I have to be at the city hall at about eleven, so we've still got an hour and a half. I'm going to take a shower now – yes, again...", she said as he raised an eyebrow. 'I thought she had taken a shower yesterday...', he thought, keeping the images of her in her bathrobe out of his mind with sheer willpower. "I had a rather weird dream..."

"Not about something that called itself 'planetvoice' by any chance?", he asked, remembering both his own dream and the wisps of conversation that he had heard earlier.

"How do you know!", she asked, her expression bewildered. Zakharov chuckled lightly, enjoying her obvious amazement before filling her in.

"I had the same dream. The voice called me 'earthzakharov'..."

"It called me 'earthdeirdre'...", Deirdre said slowly, her expression one of deep thought.

"...and it spoke of a 'growth dream' that would end our hurting this planet. Then, when I asked why it warned me..."

"...it immediately spoke of a 'dream song' and kept repeating 'why'...", Deirdre finished his sentence, looking at him intently – and for a brief second, there was a spark in her eyes, a glow that illuminated the very depths of her eyes... "Well, we have similar dreams...", she suddenly spoke, averting her eyes shyly. Zakharov thought he saw a blush spread across her cheeks, but deemed it a figment of his imagination as her voice sounded the same as always. "I'm going to take that shower now. I'll give you a shout when I'm done, okay?" She went to her own room again, while Zakharov sat around in her living room, idly reading a bit to try and get his mind off the _other_ part of the dream.

He showered and got dressed fairly quickly, wanting to get himself into his best outfit as fast as possible. His suit – 'I didn't even know I had it until Tamar helped me go through my wardrobe...', he silently mused as he put on his shirt – consisted of a dark blue vest and trousers over a light blue shirt. He had always heard it made him look much more serious, though he was rather hoping he'd look younger in it. 'Deirdre'll love me in it...', his heart's voice said in an unguarded moment, and he had to wrestle to suppress the grin that had crept onto his features. He walked into the living room, expecting he had to wait for Deirdre a bit more...

...and all the air seemed to leave his immediate surroundings as he saw her standing in the living room, slowly turning to him as she noticed he had joined her. Her deep green dress, one that complimented her eyes marvellously, swept a bit as she walked over to him... it wasn't revealing at all, it was plainer than any other dress he had ever seen, and yet it gave her the appeal of a _goddess_... 'Speak, Prokhor! Say something, for the love of God – anything!', his mind called out, and slowly Zakharov came out of his stupor.

"You look ravishing...", he complimented, hoping that his self-control would hold. He had to swallow as she did a small turn in front of him, showing off her dress. 'Great God, I'm going to be lucky if I'll last even half the day without... well, without losing my mind completely.'

"Thank you... you look pretty smart yourself. Trying to seduce one of the bridesmaids, hmm?", she said with a small twinkle of pleasure in her eyes. 'Only if you're one of them...'

"I doubt it there would be bridesmaids close to my age... You look like you're trying to seduce someone yourself, though – maybe the best man?" She blushed when she heard it, and suddenly he remembered...

"You're the best man, silly!" She giggled a little, but her eyes suddenly seemed to be sad. Zakharov wondered if all he had thought was false briefly, but then her eyes regained their usual lustre and she smiled again. "Come on, let's go. If I get there early, I can still take care of a few last minute things calmly..." Zakharov abandoned his worry as he stepped into the elevator, helped in part by the soft and silky feeling of Deirdre's dress as it brushed against his hand.

The civil wedding had been very swift: there weren't many present, just the closest relatives and some close friends – which meant Deirdre, Eliza's parents and siblings, and a few of their colleagues, one of whom was witness for Eliza. Deirdre, as city governor for Gaia's Landing, was the one to marry them, and she managed to do so without shedding a tear – though Zakharov noticed she had occasionally had a very emotional undertone in her voice. But when the church service began, it became apparent that she had saved her tears for the religious ceremony. She shed a tear or two when Eliza walked in the church, her moist cheeks reddened for some reason. Sean stood before the altar with a very fitting expression of disbelieving awe – and Zakharov couldn't blame him, for the sight of Eliza walking down the aisle at the arm of her father was certainly one that was heart-stopping. Even the older scientist found himself momentarily dazed by the picture of perfection that was Eliza in a wedding dress – and then he found his mind wondering how Deirdre would look in a wedding dress, as she walked to the altar, looking at him with nothing but pure love radiating from her face... He quickly looked to Deirdre to see if she had noticed the blush that now adorned his cheeks, but she seemed to caught up in her emotions to have noticed anything. He found himself become oddly proud and emotional himself as he heard Sean and Eliza promise eternal love and faithfulness to each other – Deirdre had collapsed on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her, crying in joy. Zakharov fought the sudden jealousy that had arisen inside him only half-heartedly.

After the wedding, a reception took place: Zakharov found himself standing amidst people he didn't know and felt even more left out as Tamar and her husband suddenly grew immersed in the conversational topic and joined in the chatter. He walked over to another, more distant table in order not to feel awkward – and was promptly joined by Deirdre.

"Hello... you don't mind if I come stand here and talk a bit? ...I promised Sean no politics, but everyone that sees me near Sean, keeps assailing me with questions whether Sean will follow in my footsteps. Ugh, I can't stand it anymore... So, how're you doing? Where are your assistant and her husband?"

"Well, they joined in a conversation about teenagers a bit further over to that side, and I decided to back away a bit before people started to ask me what teenagers were like on Earth." He smiled as he saw her dreamy expression as she probably thought back on her own years as a teenage girl – and then it struck him that it wasn't a century ago for her. "I keep forgetting that you were barely twenty-five when we left...", he said suddenly.

"Well, I keep forgetting it as well. I'm over a hundred now when counting the cryosleep. I should look like your assistant, but I still look like the girl that they took on board because her father..."

"No, the _young woman_ they took on board because she was the best ecologist-biologist there was on the entire planet. Your father had nothing to do with it, he didn't even think it necessary to come with you. It was your own merit."

"Why thank you!", Deirdre said, her face filled with contentment. "Well, and you were just the genius scientist that no one ever really stood a chance against. I looked up to you, you know, I thought you were this unreachable wise professor that I'd never be able to even get to say one word to. And look at me now.", she added with a wink. "I'm associating with a genius..."

"Well, I'm not really a...", Zakharov started, but was cut short by Eliza's voice issuing from the speakers.

"Okay, I'm going to toss my bridal bouquet now! All eligible – unmarried! – young women to the stage, please!" Zakharov turned back to Deirdre, who suddenly looked struck dumb.

"That means me, too... I'll be right back.", she said hesitantly as she moved to the stage. He watched her go with an odd feeling in his chest. 'Watching Deirdre walk away may actually be a health hazard – I think my entire body stopped functioning...', he mused as he saw her stand behind a giggling group of teenage girls (the result of a second baby boom). Eliza stood on stage, with her back to the small group of young women. She threw back the bouquet: Zakharov watched it sail through the air, over the heads of the teenage girls before landing softly in Deirdre's hands. Deirdre was startled, and bowed her head as a violent shade of scarlet crept onto her cheeks – she slowly started to raise her head but then seemed to reconsider, shaking her head furiously. She still blushed profusely as she rejoined Zakharov, after having given the bridal bouquet to Eliza's mother for safekeeping.

"Well, you know what that means… You just have to find an eligible young man and marry now!", he said as she didn't dare look at him.

"Well, I just don't see it happening, tradition or not… and besides, _if_ I would marry…", she said as she lifted her head, her voice growing soft and her eyes directed at him, peering at him intently, "who says it has to be a _young_ man?" She suddenly bowed her head again with a new blush. "…I mean, age is relative to me… Oh, excuse me – bathroom…" She slowly stepped back from the table a bit and left, dashing to the toilets.

And Zakharov found himself wondering silently how she would look in a wedding dress for the second time that day.

By the time Deirdre rejoined him, the people were already being ushered to the table. She only vaguely seemed to be aware of things during dinner, and every time he smiled her way – he sat opposite her at the table – she only gave a response smile after five minutes or so. Judging by her blush, however, Zakharov could only conclude that she was lost in thought. He felt a bit sorry for embarrassing her: he hadn't known she would react the way she did. When the tables were being cleared and the musicians were beginning to set up for the actual party, he walked over to her. 'She looks so soft and innocent… Oh, great, I think I lost control over my heart…', he thought as she slowly turned to him and blushed again, albeit very softly.

"I'm sorry for running away just then," she said, her eyes soft and her voice apologetic, "but I… I'm a bit touchy and emotional lately…"

"Don't apologise: I should be the one excusing myself. I didn't know it would upset you that much." It had been easy to see the obvious signs of tears as she had returned from the bathroom, and it had shocked him. "Not lovesick, are you? …I'm just guessing, because you got upset about the topic of marriage…"

"Oh, well, I doubt it that this man I was thinking of, would return the feeling… You're a wonderful friend, Prokhor – I really should tell you how much I value your friendship more often." She stopped speaking when she heard the musicians test their instruments. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Since you spoke of tradition earlier, you'll probably know another tradition. You have to dance with Eliza…" Zakharov smiled softly: he did know that bit of tradition as well. "Now, just so you know, you don't have to worry that much. Eliza and Sean took dancing lessons over the last month, so they can dance – well, Eliza can, at least…", she said with a small chuckle. "Is it a genius thing, not being able to dance?", she asked him, turning her green eyes at him again, and he swallowed. 'So easy to fall…'

"I told you before, I'm no genius so I don't know."

"Well, _I_ think you're a genius so I'll be testing that theory later…" He blinked – 'she's asking me to dance with her?' – but wasn't given much time to ponder it as the musicians were done doing their sound check and asked for the newlyweds to step onto the floor. Sean gently held Eliza's hand as they walked to the centre of the dance floor: they danced to a romantic ballad, not one that Zakharov knew – but he thought all ballads sounded alike. They were immersed in the music, looking at each other intently and lovingly – they exuded love, it touched everyone just to behold them. Then, the second dance was announced and Zakharov stepped towards Eliza. Despite the difference in height, they moved quite well together, he thought: though Eliza had taken the lead from him almost instantaneously – he guessed she had been leading during the first dance as well. As the song came to an end and other people started occupying the dance floor as well, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

"Okay, let's test the theory…" It was Deirdre, and her eyes shone with delight. "May I have this dance?", she said as she extended her hand to him. And he gladly accepted.

The song played was a fast one with a jazzy feel to it, and Zakharov found that she was not only energetic, but a very good dancer as well: he could only hope that she found his dancing skills up to her standards – 'though I don't think they won't', he thought as she veritably beamed with joy.

And then the next song started – another romantic ballad – and suddenly he found he couldn't let go of her… They drew nearer, slowly moving in time with the music, and she looked at him – time ground to a halt – her eyes were now filled with the same glow that had filled them briefly that morning, though now it was a roaring fire that had sprung up in them…

…and all of a sudden, the moment was over: she let him go, turned round and virtually ran away. But it was too late already.

'I can't have made this up: it was definitely love that I saw in her eyes…'

An hour or so later, Deirdre still hadn't returned, and Zakharov grew worried – and tired. He decided that it was safe for him to leave, since he was only a guest, and turned to the hallway. The party had taken place in the building next to Deirdre's, but there was a small cellar hallway that connected the two and led to the elevators in the main hall of the lab part. He suddenly found that he couldn't remember the code for the elevator, however, and cursed as he realised he was stuck.

"The code's the same as her birthdate…", said a weary voice behind him. Zakharov turned around to find it was indeed Sean who was standing behind him. "Professor… I saw what happened back there, when you danced. I know you still love her, but give her some time to sort things out. She's been having a difficult month, something to do with love trouble according to Eliza. Maybe… well, maybe you'll win her over if you keep close to her. But for now… just be there for her. Don't push things."

"I will, Sean, don't worry. I'll support her. I didn't know… she hasn't told me she… Well, I shouldn't keep you here, Eliza might become worried… Good night." He winked at Sean and chuckled softly as a blush spread swiftly over the young man's cheeks. With a soft sigh, he turned back to the number pad and dialled '22042035': the elevator responded immediately, and he was back upstairs five minutes later. "Deirdre?", he called out softly – there was no answer, so he guessed she was either already asleep or not yet there. 'Love trouble… I had no idea…', he thought as he walked to his room, willing his heart not to cry out that it was _him_ she was in love with. After having undressed, he lay down immediately and fell asleep almost instantaneously… hearing neither the soft sound of footsteps nor the soft opening and closing of his chamber door anymore…

* * *

Deirdre awoke relatively early and immediately put on her robe, tiptoeing to the kitchen to prepare herself her favourite breakfast and to cook up something for her friend as well – 'I know he said a simple breakfast would do, but I just _have_ to spoil him.' As she ate her own scrambled eggs with toast, she was silently thinking of the dream she had had: it had been bizarre to say the least. 'I should record it…', she thought, and absent-mindedly pressed the DPA button on her laptop. Immediately, the digital female appeared, looking fresh and very awake even though it was still only eight AM. 

"_Good morning, Lady Deirdre, aren't we looking ravishing this morning?"_

"Oh well, I guess we are…", Deirdre said softly, silently hoping that Zakharov would think she looked ravishing. "I've had a rather weird dream tonight…"

"_I'll note it down for you. Speak away!"_ The digital aide had conjured up a pen and notebook from out of nowhere and now patiently waited.

"Well, I was having the usual dream, when suddenly it started to change into another dream. An invisible entity was present in the darkness, and it was introduced as something called 'planetvoice'... It spoke to me, asking me my name and then it told of a 'growth dream'. When I asked for an explanation of that term, it spoke of us – 'earthbeings' – hurting the planet and it... When I asked it why it warned me, it spoke of a 'dream song', which was clearly just a chanting of the word 'why'. The voice grew increasingly high-pitched and persistent, and it continued until I woke up with my hands clapped to my ears, bathing in sweat."

"_Indeed a disturbing dream…"_ The digital assistant looked worried, and for a second Deirdre was left to wonder whether or not Sean had programmed it for emotions or not. _"When you say 'the usual dream', does that mean the one about your friend the Academician?"_

"Yes…", Deirdre blushed as she said it. "Now, today is Sean's wedding. Will you be present?"

_"Oh, no, I haven't got a decent enough dress! Maybe you should ask Sean to program me a larger wardrobe. I would hate to miss the next grand occasion. But apart from that… Your friend is visiting, isn't he? Will you be able to handle it?"_

"I have no idea, but the day will progress smoothly, I hope." She smiled, albeit a bit shaky: she had no idea at all what to expect when her heart was just as liable to betray her emotions as break into a million pieces. E-Liza saw, however, and decided to go for the diplomatic option.

"_Okay, Lady. I'll leave you now, maybe take a walk in the Paradise Garden... You have a visitor, by the way. Looks like a scientist... Bye!"_ Deirdre turned around.

"Hello, Prokhor! ...Was the breakfast good?", she said as she motioned for him to set down the tray in the kitchen.

"It was the best I've had yet.", he replied. "How long do we still have?"

"Well... I have to be at the city hall at about eleven, so we've still got an hour and a half. I'm going to take a shower now – yes, again...", she said as he raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling oddly uncomfortable under his gaze. "I had a rather weird dream..."

"Not about something that called itself 'planetvoice' by any chance?", he asked. Deirdre turned around in disbelief.

"How do you know!"

"I had the same dream. The voice called me 'earthzakharov'..."

"It called me 'earthdeirdre'...", Deirdre said slowly while trying her best to remember the details.

"...and it spoke of a 'growth dream' that would end our hurting this planet. Then, when I asked why it warned me..."

"...it immediately spoke of a 'dream song' and kept repeating 'why'...", Deirdre said, finishing the sentence he had begun, not taking her eyes off him – and suddenly she felt her heart surge, making her insides flutter. "Well, we have similar dreams...", she spoke shyly, turning her eyes away to make sure he wouldn't see the inner struggle reflected in them.

"I'm going to take that shower now. I'll give you a shout when I'm done, okay?" She turned away after having given him a smile and went to her own room, desperately wishing that no harm had been done. 'If he noticed anything, it could destroy our friendship and… gods, I don't even want to imagine that…'

The shower took her mind off things for a while, the feeling of the warm water running across her skin soothing her over-wrought nerves: she felt reborn as she stepped out of the shower. Returning to her room after having called to Zakharov, she dressed very slowly, relishing the feeling of the cool underwear against her skin – which felt like it was on fire because of the rather rough towel. After making sure that her friend was in his room, she went to the living room to search for the shoes that matched her dress, a simple but stately silk dress in a shade of green that complemented her eyes according to Eliza. Just as she had located them, she heard movement behind her and she turned around…

…and time slowed down as she saw Zakharov in a marvellously sharp outfit, a dark blue suit that made him look less like a scrawny scientist and more attractive than he already was. 'He's so handsome in that… this will _not_ be easy…', she thought and looked upon him in awe.

"You look ravishing...", he said, which made Deirdre's heart leap in joy: with a broad smile, she did a little turn for him. 'I hope you like what you see…', she found herself thinking while she kept her eyes on him – it felt like betrayal to look away, and she found herself unable to do so.

"Thank you... you look pretty smart yourself. Trying to seduce one of the bridesmaids, hmm?", she said, her heart sending jolts up and down her spine. 'Not as if I'd let you, though…'

"I doubt it there would be bridesmaids close to my age..." 'Thank God for that', she found herself thinking as he gave her all his attention apparently. "You look like you're trying to seduce someone yourself, though – maybe the best man?" This made Deirdre blush profusely and giggle nervously.

"You're the best man, silly!" 'I wish I could…', she added mentally as a sadness swept over her temporarily – she had, for one blissful minute, forgotten that it wasn't possible… She shook off the feeling swiftly, however, and resumed her cheer. "Come on, let's go. If I get there early, I can still take care of a few last minute things calmly..." She motioned for him to follow her, which he did – but she couldn't help but wonder why he was suddenly looking so morose… 'Did he notice something? Oh no…'

Luckily for her, he didn't seem to have noticed anything. His pensive mood was already over by the time they reached the ground floor, and they talked on their way to the city hall about little things. Deirdre quickly checked the room one last time and then she took her seat. The civil marriage was short, which was a stroke of luck for Deirdre, who felt moved and nearly cried but tried hard to hold her own and remain calm. It worked: she was able to perform the civil wedding without a problem, and the people gathered seemed not to have noticed.

And then it was time for the church service. Deirdre felt a lump in her throat as she saw her younger brother stand in front of the altar, waiting for his bride. And when she entered, Sean seemed to be left breathless and enchanted – which Deirdre couldn't blame him, for Eliza looked ten times as beautiful in her elaborate wedding dress. She felt one tear run over her cheek from pure happiness for her brother and best friend, and then another – but suddenly her heart took advantage of her emotional preoccupation and she found herself thinking how she would look walking down the aisle, to her beloved Prokhor… She felt a blush quickly spread across her cheeks and willed her heart to stop doing things like that to her. A quick glance over to her friend proved that he hadn't noticed a thing. With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the service and became immersed in it. She grew more and more emotional every passing minute, and by the time that Sean and Eliza spoke their wedding vows, she had started leaning onto the shoulder of the person next to her, crying her eyes out. For the first time in that past month, Zakharov was not at all on her mind.

After the wedding, the guests went to the congress building next to the lab building, where the reception and feast would be held. Deirdre had helped set up most of what was present – she had been working for days in order to make sure everything would run smoothly, and it was pleasing to see her work pay off. Many of the guests commented on the beautiful decorations, which made her especially proud.

Unfortunately, many of the guests were apparently interested in politics and thought that Sean's marriage had political significance. They were constantly badgering the newlyweds with questions about it, and didn't stop until Deirdre told them to keep their political plotting until after the celebrations. She sighed as they instantly started an airy conversation with her and hastily excused herself before they started insinuating what they had said out loud before. 'Great God, don't these people have anything else to think about?' She wandered around a bit, avoiding those that troubled her, and ended up walking towards Zakharov, who stood oddly alone in the crowd.

"Hello... you don't mind if I come stand here and talk a bit?", she asked tentatively, and continued as he made no objections: "...I promised Sean no politics, but everyone that sees me near Sean, keeps assailing me with questions whether Sean will follow in my footsteps. Ugh, I can't stand it anymore..." She groaned, then turned her attention back to him. "So, how're you doing? Where are your assistant and her husband?"

"Well, they joined in a conversation about teenagers a bit further over to that side, and I decided to back away a bit before people started to ask me what teenagers were like on Earth." Deirdre smiled softly as she heard: she could still remember vividly what it was to be a teenager – plus she'd had to handle one for about ten years herself not that long ago… "I keep forgetting that you were barely twenty-five when we left...", Zakharov commented off-hand, and Deirdre realised that she must have drifted off into thought.

"Well, I keep forgetting it as well. I'm over a hundred now when counting the cryosleep. I should look like your assistant, but I still look like the girl that they took on board because her father..."

"No, the _young woman_ they took on board because _she_ was the best ecologist-biologist there was on the entire planet. Your father had nothing to do with it; he didn't even think it necessary to come with you. It was your own merit.", Zakharov cut her off, his eyes filled with a fire that made her head swim…

"Why thank you!", Deirdre said quickly, feeling her self-restraint slip. "Well, and you were just the genius scientist that no one ever really stood a chance against. I looked up to you, you know, I thought you were this unreachable wise professor that I'd never be able to even get to say one word to. And look at me now.", she added with a wink. "I'm associating with a genius..."

"Well, I'm not really a..." She knew he was going to say he wasn't really a genius, just extraordinarily lucky, but he was cut off by Eliza's voice issuing from the speakers.

"Okay, I'm going to toss my bridal bouquet now! All eligible – unmarried! – young women to the stage, please!" Deirdre was suddenly hit hard by the thought that she, too, was one of those 'eligible young women'.

"That means me, too... I'll be right back." She felt shy as she moved through the crowd and stood in the back of the group of girls, where she was sure she wouldn't catch the bouquet. Eliza stood on the stage, her back turned to the group, and she tossed the bouquet backwards elegantly – but with enough force to sail clear over the group and landing, as if ordained by fate, right into her hands. 'Oh no… no, no, no…' She remembered her thoughts earlier that day, in church, and felt her cheeks glow as if they were on fire. 'No, no!' She willed herself not to look at her friend, not to meet his eyes – for she knew what he would see in them. Instead, she dashed away to Eliza's mother, giving her the bouquet for safekeeping, and hoped that no one would notice how shaken she was by it. She then returned to Zakharov – but only after having made sure she could face him again.

"Well, you know what that means… You just have to find an eligible young man and marry now!", he said as she rejoined him. She didn't dare meet his eyes yet, but knew she had to answer him.

"Well, I just don't see it happening, tradition or not… and besides, _if_ I would marry…", she said – and suddenly, to her great horror, her voice grew silken and she lifted her head to look him in the eye, "who says it has to be a _young_ man?" 'No, Deirdre, get a grip on yourself!', she mentally scolded herself as she bowed her head, suddenly feeling uneasy around him. 'What if he noticed!' "…I mean, age is relative to me… Oh, excuse me – bathroom…" Muttering a vague excuse, she practically ran away from him, trying desperately to control whatever damage she may have done. 'What if I ruined it?'

After her visit to the bathroom - which had consisted of crying, splashing her face with cool water so that no one would see the marks of her sadness, and reapplying her makeup – she returned to the hall just in time for dinner. Her mind was preoccupied all through dinner, and she failed to notice Zakharov's friendly smiles in time to answer them. She saw him look worried, though, every time she chanced to look at him, so she assumed that she needed to give him a proper explanation for her behaviour. 'But how will I be able to do that? I can't tell him why I'm upset with all this…' Once dinner was over and the tables were cleared away, she saw him wait for the opportunity to rejoin her. She mentally sighed. 'Well, here goes nothing…', she thought as he walked her way.

"I'm sorry for running away just then," she said, trying her best to look neutral, "but I… I'm a bit touchy and emotional lately…"

"Don't apologise: I should be the one excusing myself. I didn't know it would upset you that much." She mentally sighed, but this time in relief: 'he hasn't noticed anything!'. "Not lovesick, are you? …I'm just guessing, because you got upset about the topic of marriage…" '…or did he? What now?'

"Oh, well, I doubt it that this man I was thinking of, would return the feeling…", she said ruefully, deciding to go for the indirect approach. Her heart gave a painful squeeze when he didn't respond, confirming her fears. "You're a wonderful friend, Prokhor – I really should tell you how much I value your friendship more often." It was then that she heard the sound of instruments and realised that the musicians were already setting up. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Since you spoke of tradition earlier, you'll probably know another tradition. You have to dance with Eliza…" His soft smile made her smile as well. "Now, just so you know, you don't have to worry that much. Eliza and Sean took dancing lessons over the last month, so they can dance – well, Eliza can, at least…", she said with a small chuckle. "Is it a genius thing, not being able to dance?" To her relief, she felt the unease ebb away to be replaced by the routine of their friendship again.

"I told you before, I'm no genius so I don't know." She suddenly felt mischievous and decided to reply to that.

"Well, _I_ think you're a genius so I'll be testing that theory later…" 'I suppose a little swing is allright, when the appropriate song is played that is…' The musicians announcing the first song and calling for the newlyweds to take the floor ended her thoughts rather abruptly. It was a romantic ballad – not one that Deirdre knew, so it had to be one originating on Planet – and Sean and Eliza danced to it as if they were the only two people in the room, moving everyone with the sheer love they displayed. When the song was over, a few more people went onto the dance floor – and Zakharov walked over to Eliza. Deirdre was amused to see that Eliza had gradually taken over the lead from her friend – it was an odd sight to see the tall man being led skilfully by a young woman a foot shorter than him. She chuckled merrily and felt happy again. To add to her glee, the next song was a song that suited her dance with Zakharov perfectly: she walked over to him as he let go of Eliza and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Okay, let's test the theory…" She smiled broadly as surprise was clearly visible in his eyes. "May I have this dance?" He nodded and swept her across the dance floor. Deirdre immediately found out that it was certainly not true that a genius can't dance – and the thought brought a grin onto her features.

And then, as the song ended and Deirdre was going to let go, the next song – another romantic song, now one that she _did_ know from Earth – made her mind slip up and her heart take over fully. She didn't let go; she wasn't able to and certainly wasn't willing to, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed to her that he didn't want to let go either… As the song progressed, she got closer and closer to him until his proximity was so overwhelming and intoxicating that she looked up – and to her utter amazement, she found that his eyes were filled with a love that was as deep and overpowering as the love she felt for him…

…and then, her mind got back in control. She knew at once what had happened and, horror-stricken, turned around, not daring to look into his eyes again – and she ran for it. She ran away, to the bathroom – 'anywhere, anywhere I don't have to face him…' – and collapsed when she arrived there.

"Oh god, what have I done…", she whispered. "It must have been an illusion, or a reflection of what he saw in my eyes… Oh gods no, what now! I can't face him anymore! I can't… I've ruined it…" But in her heart, the voice that she had grown so accustomed to was speaking up again: 'But he didn't let go. He didn't back away. He was willing too. It was there – there's no use in denying it…'

"Lady Deirdre? What are you doing here!" Deirdre looked up to see Eliza stand in front of her, looking incredulous and worried. "You ran out of the hall so quickly… what's the matter?" Deirdre didn't speak, and apparently there was no need to say anything, for Eliza continued: "Oh, I understand… you were dancing with the Academician before you ran away… Did he do anything to hurt you?" Now she was looking even more troubled.

"No, no… it's just… Oh, Eliza, I'm so afraid I messed it all up!", she said, collapsing in the arms of her new sister-in-law and explaining what had happened. "…and that's why I ran. I don't think I dare face him anymore tonight…"

"Lady Deirdre…" Eliza looked at her with sympathy, and then sighed. "You know what I think. I don't think you have the right picture. But if I can't convince you… you have to do it your own way. If you feel that showing him that you feel more than just friendly towards him is putting your friendship at risk, then you have to act upon that. But still…" The young woman's voice grew softer and she continued in a whisper: "Sean never looked at me like the Academician looked at you – and that's saying something…"

"Hmm…" Deirdre shook her head, seeing her sad countenance reflected in the mirror. "My poor heart… but I can't give in. I'm afraid to lose his friendship: it means the world to me. _He_ means the world to me…", she finished. She straightened her dress and looked at herself in the mirror: her eyes were a bit red but she looked fine otherwise. "I'm going back to my quarters. It's just been… too much to bear…" She sighed as she dreaded the night to come and the dreams of Zakharov it would bring. "Tell your mother I'm sorry to leave her to do the cleaning-up by herself, but I…"

"I'll tell her. She'll understand.", Eliza said as she moved aside to allow her to pass. "Have a good night's sleep…"

"I will. Have fun tonight…" Deirdre smiled again as she saw her new sister-in-law blush, and decided not to wait for a response. Instead, she moved to the elevators and went to her quarters swiftly, trying desperately not to think about what she'd do the next day…

The soft sound of Zakharov's voice, calling her name ever so softly from the living room, awoke her again an hour later. She listened for a few minutes to the muffled sounds that issued from his room and went to see a few moments later: putting on her robe, she swiftly exited her room and listened at the door. After making sure that he was asleep – she only heard even breathing – she softly opened the door and gazed at his still form, a serene expression on his face while he slumbered.

'Oh, Prokhor, if only I had seen it sooner…', she thought before returning to bed herself.


	13. Remind yourself of

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, though I am interested in owning Zakharov (giggles). I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

13) Remind yourself of.

The next morning, Zakharov awoke fairly early: a glance at the clock that hung on the wall told him it was only half past eight. Yawning, he rose and found the same items of breakfast that had awaited him the last day standing on the table: with a broad smile, he sat down and started eating. But something gnawed at him inside this time.

Why had Deirdre run away from him? What was it about him that made her react so violently? 'She's been having 'love trouble', but why does she run from _me_? I'm her friend… why didn't she tell me?' He had been so immersed in thought that he hadn't heard any sounds coming from the living room, but when he had gotten dressed fully and went to the kitchen to return the now empty tray, he found a laughing Deirdre sitting in front of her laptop.

"Sean's lucky he has a tolerant sister: if it were Prokhor who had caught him slacking off that first time… Speaking of which…", she said to the person on screen as she noticed him, motioning for him to come closer, "…here we have our genius Academician now! Prokhor, come and say hi to…"

"Corazon?" Zakharov couldn't believe his eyes: it was indeed Santiago whose face was beaming up at him. "And…"

"My son, Jonathan Garland." Now he was even more surprised. 'Her son? But she wasn't…' He smiled, however, and greeted the Latin woman heartily.

"How nice to see you're well! …When was he born, your Jonathan? I'm just wondering, because I never noticed…"

"He was born about three months after Planetfall. I hadn't started developing the outward signs of pregnancy until late in the week after Planetfall… I guess my body has changed in the duration of the cryosleep… But enough about me, how are you?" They talked for half an hour longer about what had happened to him and Deirdre: then, Santiago grew serious again. "Prokhor, Deirdre, the reason I contacted you requires a bit of explanation. My landing pod landed on a rather large island a bit more to the west of the continent you are on. It proved to be a quiet location, ideal for settlements to be built and a peaceful life. But then I got contacted from the mainland near my island. It was Morgan, telling me to stop colonizing the ocean near his part of the mainland. I replied that this planet wasn't his property and the argument escalated into a declaration of war. Since then, I've been struggling to keep my head above water – with the aid of Sister Miriam, I've been able to hold my own until now, but we've had a rough time recently, especially since Morgan 'convinced' Yang to aid him in his stupid war against us. And then, my secret project engineers came up with a revolutionary new idea: communicate with the planet's 'mind' in order to find out whether there were others who have survived… and it led me to your commlink frequencies. I've contacted you primarily to ask if it were alright if I were to join you in your alliance…"

"Of course!", Zakharov spoke at the same time as Deirdre did. Then, with a soft smile cast Deirdre's way, Zakharov continued: "If you need anything – technologies to enhance your weaponry, energy credits, military aid… you just ask us and we'll help out."

"Thank you… it could mean salvation for me and Miriam. She should contact you in about five to ten minutes, so I'll sign off and consult my military advisors."

"You can count on us, Corazon – your friends, then and now.", Deirdre said with a soft but serious smile, which Zakharov confirmed with a nod. As the screen grew black, Deirdre rose and went over to the fridge to take something to drink.

"Had a good night's sleep?", she asked, her tone of voice airy.

"I was worried about you last night, Deirdre…", he said. Immediately she turned around, a blush firmly planted on her cheeks.

"You needn't have worried… I've been so distressed lately, I go off for the least reasons…" She looked him straight in the eye as she continued, causing his heart to seemingly stop beating altogether: "I just didn't want you to see me cry over something so stupid as heartache…" He suddenly felt the irresistible urge to walk over to her and place his hand on her shoulder. His eyes were drawn to hers – who widened in apparent shock.

"Heartaches aren't stupid, Deirdre – and the one who is causing you to suffer this way doesn't know what he's missing. If it were me…", he said, but right at that moment, the laptop's intercom bleeped.

"_Incoming commlink message – sender unknown – signal scrambled. Receive?"_

"Well, that'll be Sister Miriam, asking if she can join in the almighty Alliance of Five…", Deirdre joked as she walked swiftly back to her laptop and pressed "receive". It was not Miriam's face, however, that appeared on screen: it was…

"Morgan." Deirdre paled so rapidly, Zakharov genuinely feared that she'd faint.

"Deirdre, dear girl!" His voice was sweet as honey, Zakharov noticed, and he seemed to just ignore his presence. "How fortunate that you're still alive! I was worried a bit when…"

"Morgan, do us both a favour and stop trying to kiss up to me: what is this about?" Deirdre's voice surprised Zakharov – and apparently Morgan as well – because of the sharp edge it had and the open animosity it showed.

"Well…" The taller African seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he regained his composure and he continued in the same honey-dripping voice: "I've been having problems around my home base – in the middle of a war, actually! I was wondering if you'd be interested in an alliance?"

"Morgan, I can make this short. About half an hour ago, Corazon contacted me with the same question. I accepted her offer of alliance – which makes us enemies." Deirdre's voice was cold and spiteful, causing a chill to run up even Zakharov's spine. Morgan now cast both of them hateful looks.

"So you won't ally with me?" His voice was now equally cold as Deirdre's had been.

"Yes. I suggest you end this conversation now – we've got nothing to say to each other unless you plan on signing a peace treaty with both Corazon and Miriam. If that isn't the case, then goodbye!" Deirdre's voice had grown louder over the duration of the sentence and she had practically deafened the other man before disconnecting herself. She breathed unevenly for a while, then she sagged in her chair.

"Deirdre, I think you handled that marvellously – I would have done the same as you…", Zakharov said as he patted her shoulder.

"Yeah… I know you would've…", she said with a smile before her face returned to its grim expression. "Excuse me, I'm going to kick something out the window.", she said. Zakharov listened anxiously for the sound of breaking glass – or worse – but she seemed to have enough sense to open the window first. The intercom decided to take advantage of the silence and bleeped again.

"_Incoming message – sender unidentified. Receive?"_ Zakharov pushed 'receive' and instantly met with Miriam's face.

"Professor? ...I must've gotten the wrong frequency from Santiago...", she said, hastily trying to recover from the surprise. "I thought..."

"It's allright, I'm at Deirdre's. I think you'll be pleased we have both accepted Corazon's offer of an alliance, and are both willing to ally with you as well. Welcome to the 'Mighty Alliance of Five' or whatever Deirdre called it just now..." He looked at the ever-so-serious woman and saw that his attempt to be amusing had worked: her eyes sparkled.

"Well, that's good to hear. I don't think Santiago has said anything at all about what we actually expect from you and Lal, but..."

Zakharov listened to the explanation the older woman gave patiently. It appeared that neither she nor Santiago expected any troop support from them, but they were expecting that the threat of massive retaliation of any attack on one of the allies would prove enough – which seemed logical to Zakharov, since two to five was an unequal battle, even in his book. She sent him, in attachment, some technology reports – by this time, Deirdre had rejoined him, still looking disgruntled but not as irate as she had been before. As Miriam signed off, Deirdre turned again to Zakharov.

"And? Was she pleased to hear the news?"

"Yes. And from now on, we are the 'Mighty Alliance of Five'... a term which _you_ invented, by the way...", he said as she chuckled.

"True. Well, it's about time you went to pack your stuff...", she said with a sigh – her voice betrayed how difficult it was for her to say goodbye. "I can't say when I can come back to University Base to visit – I suppose you don't know your days off in advance as well – but I promise you that we'll see each other again within the year."

"I have no doubt about that...", Zakharov said. 'I doubt it you can miss me longer anyway...', he mentally added and grinned. "I'll go pack..."

Two years later, Zakharov sat in his office, pondering. The alliance had proven fruitful: the allies had been left alone – Zakharov's army was impressive enough on its own, even Deirdre agreed, mainly because of its technological advantage – and Yang had even pledged Blood Truce with Santiago for a few weeks, after which Morgan had reprimanded his ally. Zakharov had surmised that the alliance between Yang and Morgan was one in which Morgan had all the power.

But what was more on his mind, was Deirdre. He had seen her again within the year after the wedding – at the christening of Sean's child, Michael Skye. He was the godfather: Sean had no other relative than Deirdre, and Eliza had lost her father a few weeks prior to the birth of her son, making the choice scarce. He had been filled with pride when he assumed the role he had played once for his niece – only this time, he promised himself he'd not let anything part him and his new godchild. After the christening, she had made a one-day visit to University Base – but that was too short to really enjoy her company. He was looking through his agenda, trying to find the suitable moment for him to have a long weekend – so he could stay at Deirdre's a couple of days. Right when he had found a suitable time, his intercom bleeped and he turned his attention to the screen.

"_Incoming text message – sender: Lady Deirdre Skye of the Gaians. Receive?"_ Trying to calm his curiosity, he marked the date in his agenda and then pushed 'receive'. The message was fairly short but...

_Prokhor,_

_As you read this message, I'm packing a suitcase. I'm coming over to you tomorrow (can you please make sure that me and my company (Sean and family) has a place to stay?) to show you a fantastic new discovery. I'll let Sean do the explaining..._

_Professor, this is Sean. I'll try to hurry this, because it's still a bit hard to channel... One of the technologies Sister Miriam gave you and Dee was 'neural grafting', remember? It was mainly an essay on the possibilities of the human brain, but at the end was an interesting remark. It said that the human brain is often compared to a computer, yet with a staggering difference in memory and capabilities... I've decided to research a bit further into this and I ended up with a beautiful piece of technology which I'm personally coming to demonstrate tomorrow. Sean out. Damn this thing is annoying..._

_Deirdre again. You'll be surprised what it can do... I'll see you tomorrow then? Greets and a warm hug, Deirdre. PS: sorry for the short notice, but genius doesn't stick to a schedule..._

Zakharov smiled, then slowly started to laugh. 'She's coming over here tomorrow! I'll see her again! And she sent a warm hug...'

The next day found Zakharov in an extremely agitated state. He was up at the crack of dawn, hurried his already limited breakfast – ending up eating only half of it – and wasn't able to set his mind on his work. Therefore, he spent his time talking nervously to Tamar, who understood his trouble.

"Is your godchild coming too? I'd very much like to see him... he must be adorable...", she commented – Zakharov only faintly registered her saying it. Then, as she had walked towards the window: "I think that's her and her brother... Yes, definitely." Zakharov sprinted away, wending his way through the laboratories with a speed he knew only Deirdre could make him have. He arrived outside just in time.

"Deirdre, Sean, Eliza, welcome!" He shook Sean and Eliza's hand and placed the customary kiss on Deirdre's hand, making his friend blush yet again. 'I swear that those blushes make her even more ravishing...' "Oh, and my cute little godchild... Hello, Michael!" He took hold of the young boy's hands and gave them a soft squeeze, which the child answered vigorously. "I swear, he grows by the second! ...Oh, Tamar here will take care of Eliza and Michael, won't you, Tamar?" His assistant had caught up with him, and was now catching her breath.

"Oh, sure... Come on in, Eliza and Michael. Since my boss just gave me the day off, we can have a nice cup of coffee – and you can have some chocolate milk!" Tamar glared at him before taking off with the young mother and son, leaving Zakharov to guide Deirdre and Sean to his private quarters.

"Now, Sean...", he said as they had arrived, "what is it you wish to show me?"

"This...", said the young man, and he turned around, bearing a spot at the back of his head...

"What..." Zakharov was struck dumb as he saw it: in Sean's head was something that looked curiously like a port on a computer, in which a cable could be put. It was a ghastly sight to behold, and he involuntarily shivered. "What is it?", he asked once he had regained his voice.

"It's called 'mind-machine interface', and it means that I can access any machine via the port in my head. I volunteered as first test subject and it's a success. Want to test it? I've downloaded all possible chess moves from the Network Node in Gaia's Landing – I can beat you in three moves, no matter what you do." The confident grin on Sean's features made it clear that it was no joke, and Zakharov chuckled.

"Is chess the only thing on your mind? ...Okay," he continued as Sean chuckled as well, turning serious, "I understand what it does, but why did you do this?"

"Oh, let's just say you gave me the idea..." Now Zakharov was really surprised: how could he have inspired Sean? "Remember that old data pod that proved to be a hard nut to crack?" Zakharov nodded and it slowly started to dawn on him again... "Well, I said to you at one time that I had the feeling that I would be able to crack the code, but that the computer between me and the darned thing couldn't. Well, you said that I should try and bypass the computer – but I couldn't back then. Now, however, I've got a supercomputer at my disposal – I should be able to crack it in, say, a few hours... If I may borrow your laptop?" Zakharov understood immediately and got the data pod from his cupboards and his personal laptop from his desk. Sean immediately set to work, connecting himself to the data pod – or vice versa – using a long cable and vehemently typing down any insights in the computer. Zakharov returned to Deirdre, who was still sitting in the sofa.

"What would you like to do in the meantime, Deirdre? ...We can play chess, watch some television or do something else if you like...", he added when he saw her shrug. 'I'd like to take her in my arms, right here in this sofa, and...', he found his mind adding and he got a fiery blush – a blush which appeared almost simultaneously, for some reason, on Deirdre's cheeks. "Chess it is...", he said with a small chuckle as he saw the holoboard on his living room table had already come to life.

After a few hours, in which Zakharov had played chess with Deirdre three times – during which they talked about recent developments such as Sean's appointment as Head of Physics department and honorary professor at Gaia's Landing's university - and watched television for about an hour along with her, Sean came back into the living room with the data pod now securely plugged in to the laptop.

"Done it. The code was exactly what I thought it was, made with two prime numbers of an inequal amount of digits. You can review its contents now – if you like, professor...", he hastily added. Zakharov nodded with a benevolent smile, installed the laptop on his desk and played the contents.

He was shocked hear what was on it. Deirdre paled and fainted – he couldn't blame her, he felt weak himself – while Sean looked more horror-struck with every passing second. After the initial shock had subsided, Zakharov picked up Deirdre's limp body and carried her to the sofa, where she came to a few minutes later.

"Prokhor...", she said, looking intensely fearful and extremely irate at the same time – 'as must I', he realised.

"He'll pay for this...", was all that he could say – for as he looked upon the one he loved, he could only feel cold hate rise as he thought of the one who had caused her grief like that. "He'll not get away with murder..."

* * *

Deirdre awoke early the next morning, feeling refreshed but apprehensive. She knew she was going to have to deal with her friend – he was going to ask for an explanation, she was sure of it. As she prepared breakfast, she thought about what she was going to tell him without sounding either unconvincing or exaggerating – or, worse yet, betraying her true feelings. As she had prepared Zakharov's breakfast, she had decided to settle with indirect mentions of her trouble – 'saying that I've a heartache with which I don't want to bother him is neither a lie nor a complete truth...', she thought to herself as she walked to his room to bring his breakfast to him, after which she went to her room to get dressed. She faintly heard the sounds of eating issue from Zakharov's room as she exited, and her heart clenched. Fortunately, she was quickly diverted from her emotional turmoil by the bleep of her commlink; she had left her laptop open after having told her dream of the previous night – again one about Zakharov, in which he comforted her and in which they married even – to her digital PA.

"Who could that be?", she said, and she walked to her seat, casting a proper look at the screen. _Incoming message – sender unidentified – receive? _Deirdre was surprised, but pushed 'receive' anyway, hoping it would be a pleasant surprise.

And it was: the beaming face of Corazon Santiago looked at her from the screen, her expression one of relief and sincere glee.

"Deirdre! How good to see that you are well, dear friend! How have you been?" The Latin-American woman hadn't lost her cheer over the years, Deirdre was glad to find out, and she answered her friend's smile with one of her own.

"I've been very well, thank you. How have you been?"

"I've been busy – busy and happy... well, as happy as I could be, considering what happened on board the spaceship...", she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I loved John... but I've been lucky to have my memories, as well as Jonathan." And at the mention of his name, a young man came to the screen: Deirdre gasped as she realised that his face, his hair, everything about him was an exact copy of her deceased friend and leader. "Jonathan, this is Lady Deirdre Skye of the Gaians, a friend from the old days. Deirdre, this is my son Jonathan Garland."

"Your son..." Deirdre was struck dumb for a while, as she pondered whether her friend had had signs of pregnancy on board the spaceship, but she couldn't find any. "When...?"

"It didn't start to show until about Planetfall – Jonathan was born three months after our arrival here. ...But enough about my dear son...", she said all of a sudden, catching Deirdre off-hand, "I tried to contact you yesterday, but you weren't there..."

"Oh, yes, the wedding... My brother Sean got married yesterday to my personal assistant and closest friend, Eliza. After an engagement of thirteen years...", she said with a soft chuckle, at which Corazon blinked. Deirdre told her the entire story, from the first days after planetfall until the wedding itself, only stopping to allow her friend to get something to drink while doing the same. "...It was a beautiful service, and Eliza looked divine. Sean was mesmerized by her."

"Your brother seems to be a lucky man...", Santiago commented with a dry chuckle.

"And that he is. In the very beginning, he was always slacking off to sneak off with her – I caught them once, after which they apparently didn't bother anymore. ...Ah, what can I say? Sean's lucky he has a tolerant sister: if it were Prokhor who had caught him slacking off that first time…" She looked up from the screen, thinking about that thought for a second – and then she noticed her friend standing a few feet away, holding his empty tray. "Speaking of which, here we have our genius Academician now! Prokhor, come and say hi to…"

"Corazon?" Apparently, it was as much a surprise for him as it had been for her, since he stared incredulously at the screen, unable to believe it was really his old friend at first. . "And…"

"My son, Jonathan Garland." Now Zakharov was even more surprised: his eyes widened even more, Deirdre saw – she smiled softly, since she knew she must have looked as incredulous when she was told, herself.

"How nice to see you're well! …When was he born, your Jonathan? I'm just wondering, because I never noticed…" Zakharov asked in a carefully light tone, which made Deirdre look his way in surprise. 'Is he... shocked!' Santiago seemed to pay it no heed, however.

"He was born about three months after Planetfall. I hadn't started developing the outward signs of pregnancy until late in the week after Planetfall… I guess my body has changed in the duration of the cryosleep… But enough about me, how are you?" The conversation turned to their situations for the next half hour, after which Santiago nodded softly and turned serious; Deirdre nodded as well and listened. "Prokhor, Deirdre, the reason I contacted you requires a bit of explanation. My landing pod landed on a rather large island a bit more to the west of the continent you are on. It proved to be a quiet location, ideal for settlements to be built and a peaceful life. But then I got contacted from the mainland near my island. It was Morgan..." Upon hearing this, Deirdre gasped audibly. 'Oh god, he's still alive as well...', she thought as she remembered all too well what the tall African had tried to do to her. "...telling me to stop colonizing the ocean near his part of the mainland. I replied that this planet wasn't his property and the argument escalated into a declaration of war. Since then, I've been struggling to keep my head above water – with the aid of Sister Miriam, I've been able to hold my own until now, but we've had a rough time recently, especially since Morgan 'convinced' Yang to aid him in his stupid war against us. And then, my secret project engineers came up with a revolutionary new idea: communicate with the planet's 'mind' in order to find out whether there were others who have survived… and it led me to your commlink frequencies. I've contacted you primarily to ask if it were alright if I were to join you in your alliance…"

"Of course!", Deirdre said, at the same time as Zakharov. She cast her friend a soft smile which he answered before continuing: "If you need anything – technologies to enhance your weaponry, energy credits, military aid… you just ask us and we'll help out."

"Thank you… it could mean salvation for me and Miriam. She should contact you in about five to ten minutes, so I'll sign off and consult my military advisors."

"You can count on us, Corazon – your friends, then and now." Deirdre had said it with vigor and she nodded firmly, but while casting her newly refound friend a soft smile as well. Santiago nodded, signalling that she had understood and that she cared, before signing off, leaving Deirdre to suddenly realise just how close Zakharov was sitting to her: she quickly rose and walked over to the fridge to get herself and her friend a drink but mainly to escape the proximity. 'Well, I was thirsty anyway...', she thought as she rummaged about in the fridge a bit. 'All that talking makes my mouth dry...'

"Had a good night's sleep?", she asked, her tone of voice airy.

"I was worried about you last night, Deirdre…", he said. He was still worried, apparently, for his voice betrayed discomfort. She turned around with a soft blush, as her heart had suddenly leapt up, crying out 'he cares for you! He loves you!'.

"You needn't have worried… I've been so distressed lately, I go off for the least reasons…", she quickly said, trying desperately to sound convincing. As he didn't seem to give up, she looked at him directly and found herself blurting out: "I just didn't want you to see me cry over something so stupid as heartache…" 'My god, I have to be careful... my heart is trying to make me say it to him, but I won't!' Zakharov had a look of intense care on his face and he took a slow but very deliberate step her way, as if to comfort her: she reacted instinctively and fearfully stepped back. 'I can't... It isn't true...'

"Heartaches aren't stupid, Deirdre – and the one who is causing you to suffer this way doesn't know what he's missing. If it were me…", she heard her friend say – and suddenly she desperately wanted to hear what he would say next... but her laptop chose the worst moment ever to bleep. Deirdre was slightly annoyed as she walked over to the screen.

"_Incoming commlink message – sender unknown – signal scrambled. Receive?"_

"Well, that'll be Sister Miriam, asking if she can join in the almighty Alliance of Five…", she said, trying to sound airy – as though nothing had happened. 'How long are you going to pretend...', she found her heart saying to her mind and sounding – to her horror – absolutely rational as she pressed 'receive'.

Nothing could compare to the following shock, however: it made all further thoughts of Zakharov clear her mind altogether. "Morgan." Deirdre suddenly felt her heart turn to ice and her mind scream as reason fled and cold calculating hatred took over.

"Deirdre, dear girl!" His voice was soft as velvet – Deirdre shuddered at the thought – and he seemed to pay Zakharov no heed, though the scientist stood next to her; from the corner of her eye, Deirdre saw a look of intense disgust on her friend's face and felt the same way. "How fortunate that you're still alive! I was worried a bit when…"

"Morgan, do us both a favour and stop trying to kiss up to me: what is this about?" Deirdre was surprised by the sound of her voice – hostile and devoid of warmth – but only for a split second, after which her mind relapsed into its calculating icy shell.

"Well…" Morgan seemed to be intimidated for a moment – 'That's right, you bastard, _I_'m in control here!' – before returning to his suave ways: "I've been having problems around my home base – in the middle of a war, actually! I was wondering if you'd be interested in an alliance?"

"Morgan, I can make this short. About half an hour ago, Corazon contacted me with the same question. I accepted her offer of alliance – which makes us enemies." 'I didn't know I could be such an ice cold bitch, but it feels _good_ to chew him up and spit him out...', Deirdre thought with a grim feeling of satisfaction as Morgan now cast her a look of utmost loathing as well as casting one Zakharov's way

"So you won't ally with me?" His voice was now as cold as her heart.

"Yes. I suggest you end this conversation now – we've got nothing to say to each other unless you plan on signing a peace treaty with both Corazon and Miriam. If that isn't the case, then goodbye!" She had virtually shouted the last few words before closing the commlink channel, but it felt right to. She still felt extremely angry, though, and felt volatile.

"Deirdre, I think you handled that marvellously – I would have done the same as you…", Zakharov commented while patting her on the shoulder, briefly lifting her from the maelstrom of spiteful thoughts about Morgan. She smiled as she turned to him for a moment.

"Yeah… I know you would've…", she said softly, before she returned to her grim mood. "Excuse me, I'm going to kick something out the window." And with that, she turned around and went to her room, where she grabbed a random item from inside her junk closet, opened the window and threw the object in a wide arc into the walled-in forest. The faint 'clang' when it hit the ground was enough to ease her mind again – for in her thoughts, it had been Morgan she threw out and broke. 'Oh, I'd love to really break him... but that won't happen..." After making sure that her mind was completely at rest, she returned to her living room, where she heard Zakharov discuss with Miriam a bit as she sent him some tech reports, apparently. She didn't seem to have much time, though, for she signed off after a few minutes – as soon as the tech reports were transmitted.

"And? Was she pleased to hear the news?", she asked tentatively, her tone of voice hinting that she was allright again and didn't want to hear the name 'Morgan' anymore.

"Yes. And from now on, we are the 'Mighty Alliance of Five'... a term which _you_ invented, by the way...", he replied with a soft chuckle, which she found herself chuckling at as well.

"True. Well, it's about time you went to pack your stuff..." Deirdre sighed as she had said it, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. "I can't say when I can come back to University Base to visit – I suppose you don't know your days off in advance as well – but I promise you that we'll see each other again within the year." She directed her eyes at him, hoping to convince him that it was true. 'I just can't miss you again...', she added in thought while a faint blush played across her cheeks.

"I have no doubt about that...", Zakharov said with a broad grin. "I'll go pack..."

It was about a year and a half after the wedding, and almost a year after the christening of Sean's son Michael – Eliza had announced the joyful news after their honeymoon, and Zakharov was one of the first to know and also was asked if he wanted to be the child's godfather, which he said he would gladly be – when Deirdre received an overly enthusiastic Sean in her office.

"Calm down, Sean!", she said as her brother stumbled over his words in his haste to tell her some news he had. "Sit down, please, and start from the beginning..."

"Well, I was really just looking for something to read during my coffee break, and Eliza had these papers on neural grafting lying around on her desk..." 'Oh, one of Miriam's presents...', Deirdre thought with a smile: the tech reports had proven fruitful and most beneficial for her own research already. Then, suddenly, she remembered that neural grafting was a biotechnology and wondered what it was that had Sean in a state of near-ecstatic excitement. "...so I grabbed those. In the back was a small item on the resemblance that the human brain is said to have to a supercomputer. I believe the exact words were: "The human brain is often compared to its technological approximation, the computer. But nature has provided to be vastly better than technology in this field also, for to attain the same amount of memory or even computing strength of the human mind, one would need about five million supercomputers. The human brain is still unmatched by any technology and will remain so for a very long time to come." But Dee, that got me thinking... what if we could give people access to the super-supercomputers in their head? ...I've still got some research to do but..."

"Sean, are you saying you want to tap into the human brain? For what purpose!" Deirdre was flabbergasted: she couldn't comprehend what her brother wanted exactly, but it sounded very much impossible.

"Well, remember the reason why I had to stay at University Base for three more years? I was thinking..." As he explained, Deirdre found her mind becoming more and more convinced that he was an absolute genius but also an absolute dreamer.

"Sean, if you pull that off... I'll make you head of the Physics department and honorary professor in Physics and Neurophysics at the Gaian University...", she said, her mind still reeling from her brother's words.

"Don't worry, sis", Sean said as he walked to her door and opened it. "I will succeed."

And that was why Deirdre was going for a two-day visit to University Base half a year later, travelling in the company of her new head of Physics department and honorary colleague-professor at the Gaian University. 'Me and my big fat mouth...', Deirdre thought as the smug look on Sean's face, which had appeared when he came to hand in his paper on the subject and ask when he would be appointed, persisted even then, while they were travelling at a very fast speed to her friend's home base.

The rover troops dropped her off at the gates before driving to the soldiers' quarters themselves; Deirdre immediately felt herself being pulled onward, into the city and to her friend... her beloved friend...

As they reached the main building – the labs, actually – Deirdre saw Zakharov emerge from within. 'He looks as though he's run half a mile...', she mused as she saw him draw deep breaths.

"Deirdre, Sean, Eliza, welcome!", he said as he descended the stairs, shaking Sean and Eliza's extended hands but placing a kiss on her hand, which made a burning feeling creep onto her cheeks. 'If I didn't know better, I'd say he was actually teasing me...', she thought as she saw his eyes twinkle a bit – and then he turned to her nephew. "Oh, and my cute little godchild... Hello, Michael!" He shook the one-year-old's small hands softly and with a broad grin. "I swear, he grows by the second! ...Oh, Tamar here will take care of Eliza and Michael, won't you, Tamar?" His assistant had now emerged from the building, apparently having run as well: she, too, was out of breath.

"Oh, sure... Come on in, Eliza and Michael. Since my boss just gave me the day off, we can have a nice cup of coffee – and you can have some chocolate milk!" Deirdre giggled as Tamar looked disgruntled and Zakharov suddenly blanched. 'He shouldn't have bossed her around...', she thought as she followed Zakharov to his private residence.

"Now, Sean...", the older scientist said as they had arrived, "what is it you wish to show me?"

"This...", Sean simply stated as he bared his new 'extension' in the back of his head.

"What..." Zakharov was struck dumb as he saw it, apparently – Deirdre couldn't blame him, she had been horrified at first as well – and he shuddered as he beheld it. "What is it?", he asked tentatively, obviously not trying to sound too aghast and failing miserably.

"It's called 'mind-machine interface', and it means that I can access any machine via the port in my head. I volunteered as first test subject and it's a success. Want to test it? I've downloaded all possible chess moves from the Network Node in Gaia's Landing – I can beat you in three moves, no matter what you do." The confident grin on Sean's features showed he would like to crush his one-time mentor, and Zakharov chuckled, the sound of which made shivers run down Deirdre's spine.

"Is chess the only thing on your mind?" Now Sean was the one to chuckle, albeit a dirty kind of chuckle, and Deirdre found herself thinking that it would be nice to have a niece as well. 'Oh, that's just gross... next thing I know I'll be encouraging the two of them...' "...Okay," Zakharov continued, turning serious, "I understand what it does, but why did you do this?"

"Oh, let's just say you gave me the idea... Remember that old data pod that proved to be a hard nut to crack?", Sean elaborated as Zakharov looked nonplussed. The older scientist nodded, and slowly a look of understanding crept onto his features. "Well, I said to you at one time that I had the feeling that I would be able to crack the code, but that the computer between me and the darned thing couldn't. Well, you said that I should try and bypass the computer – but I couldn't back then. Now, however, I've got a supercomputer at my disposal – I should be able to crack it in, say, a few hours... If I may borrow your laptop?" Zakharov nodded and disappeared into his office, apparently rummaging around to find the data pod: he returned after a minute or so with the device and his personal laptop. Sean immediately set to work, connecting himself to the data pod – or vice versa – using a long cable and vehemently typing down any insights in the computer. Zakharov returned to Deirdre, who was still sitting in the sofa.

"What would you like to do in the meantime, Deirdre?" She shrugged, not really knowing what he would want to do. "...We can play chess, watch some television or do something else if you like...", he added tentatively. 'Hmm, if only I could just sidle up to you on this sofa and cuddle with you, maybe kiss you, and... Oh, no, don't think like that!' She blushed profusely – and for some odd reason, she noted, Zakharov blushed as well before saying with a small chuckle: "Chess it is...". The holoboard sprang to life at his words, seemingly, and Deirdre smiled softly – glad that he didn't notice her blush... or did he?

The played three games in total, during which they talked of small things. Deirdre told him of Sean's new functions and added ruefully that she should refrain from promising him rewards in return for technology – a comment to which Zakharov could only laugh, which sent jolts of heat through Deirdre's blood. Between games, they just sat and talked about random things or watched television: Zakharov showed off the University's many TV channels and she commented on their contents – all in the spirit of their friendship. And then, Sean walked in with a ceremonious gesture.

"Done it. The code was exactly what I thought it was, made with two prime numbers of an inequal amount of digits. You can review its contents now – if you like, professor...", he hastily added when Deirdre cast him a scalding look. Zakharov nodded and the three adjourned to the table where the laptop stood to see what the mysterious object held.

And they were horror-stricken from begin to end: Zakharov looked darkly at the screen while the contents of the data pod unfolded itself, speaking of terrible things, and Sean... 'Poor Sean, don't listen!', Deirdre thought as she saw her brother looking more and more horrified. And she felt her body failing her, suddenly and completely – she welcomed the darkness... She still registered someone – 'Prokhor? Sean doesn't have that kind of strength in him' – pick her up and carry her to somewhere else, somewhere softer... and slowly she regained consciousness: Zakharov was sitting on the ground next to her, his eyes speaking of a battle between worry about her and cold hate for the one who had caused her such inner pain.

"Prokhor...", she said, her heart being torn between immense fear and intense dislike of the person responsible for what had happened – all that had happened – to her.

"He'll pay for this...", her friend replied, his voice speaking of determination. "He'll not get away with murder..."


	14. Understand

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, though I am interested in owning Zakharov (giggles). I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

_A/N: this is (again) a partly joint chapter. The events leading to the Planetary Council are separate, the Planetary Council and all that follows are discussed jointly. (I will have a simultaneous situation in the joint part, but you won't mind if they are apart then, won't you?) By the way, this is one hell of a long chapter... took me ages to type..._

14) Understand

Zakharov was pacing slowly in the small meeting hall, where he sat along with Deirdre. He recalled the text of the message they had composed that day, already three months ago, when they had heard the contents of the encrypted data pod: he knew it by heart from the moment it was sent...

_To our fellow leaders,_

_In light of certain new discoveries, we would like to convene a Planetary council at the date of April 16th, which is to be held in the headquarters of the University of Planet, University Base. Also, until the moment that a Planetary Governor is chosen, we ask that the Academician of the University, Prokhor Zakharov, preside the Council. We must impress upon all of you the graveness and urgency of this discovery – though we cannot tell you what it is exactly. By the UN Charter of Diplomacy proposed on Earth to guide this mission, no military activity may take place between the dates of April 15th and April 18th. The penalty imposed for breaking this rule is a heavy financial fine along with economical and possibly military sanctions. Furthermore, no weapons shall be tolerated at this Council by either the faction leaders or their diplomatic entourage, and each faction leader is only allowed the minimal support of one squadron of soldiers to accompany him to University Base._

_With our sincerest regards and wishes for your well-being,_

_Lady Deirdre Skye of the Stepdaughters of Gaia_

_And Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet._

It was now April 15th and all the faction leaders would join them that day, while the Council itself would be held the next day. He was fearful, however: not of the reactions of his friends and allies – they had agreed to come without any reservations – but of the reactions of his... 'Well, I guess they are my enemies, though it rather pains me to think of Yang as an enemy...', he pondered as he turned around and looked at his companion sitting in the sofa opposite him.

Deirdre looked pale to him, and about ready to faint: he couldn't blame her, it was hard on her. The content of the data pod was dire, but it was also personal to her: it spoke of the earlier misbehaviour towards her very openly – and now it would be played in front of the entire council, thus revealing a rather painful secret of hers to the entire world...

"Deirdre...", he started softly. Then, as she turned to him, he continued louder: "Deirdre, if you want to, you can just send Eliza as your delegate or something... you don't have to be present if you don't want to..."

"No, I can handle it, thanks...", she said while getting up. "Don't worry", she said as she regained a bit of colour on her cheeks and cast him a smile which made his heart skip a few beats.

"I know better than to worry about you, Deirdre – you are a strong and able woman, I know you are...", he said, which made the colour on her cheeks turn into a healthy blush. She smiled even broader, and Zakharov was just starting to walk over to her when they were both startled by a knock on the door.

"Enter...", Zakharov said, apprehensive.

"Academician, three others are here: Sister Miriam Godwinson of the Lord's Believers, Commissioner Pravin Lal of the Peacekeeping Forces, and Colonel Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation. ...Can I be of any assistance, ladies and gentlemen? Would you care for a drink or refreshment?", Tamar said as the three other allies walked in past her. Zakharov was about to thank her for her offer and send her back out to wait for Morgan and Yang when Deirdre walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder – a gesture which made electricity run over his skin, it seemed, where the soft pressure of her hand lay.

"Prokhor, I'm feeling a bit faint, could I have a lemon tonic?", she said softly. He found himself mesmerized by her proximity, but managed to nod and convey the message to Tamar.

"Lady Skye will have a lemon tonic, please, Tamar. I'll give you instructions on the reception of the other two faction leaders when you bring it."

"Allright." Tamar managed a curtsey, although she winked at him playfully. "Glad to be of service, Academician, Lady Skye.", she continued as she curtseyed before Deirdre as well, who giggled softly, before retreating, leaving the five to discuss the matters at hand.

"Prokhor, what's the matter?", Santiago asked, and Lal and Miriam nodded.

"I can't tell you yet, but I CAN tell you that it has to do with the events which led to the fragmentation of our colonizing mission...", he said, and Santiago nodded – Zakharov knew she understood what it was going to be about. "But I'd like to discuss the security measures upon which Deirdre insisted. More specifically the prohibition to bring weapons..." Lal nodded and Santiago acquired a grim expression – as did Deirdre, for a reason Zakharov didn't know and didn't feel like guessing. "Now, we are five against their two, and they will want to get an advantage – they will have weapons despite Deirdre's prohibition..."

"And they won't be the only one...", Santiago seemed to say softly, though Zakharov didn't quite know for sure she did.

"...Anyway, I just want you to be careful. They will be put up in guest quarters in another building for their safety and our own, but that is no guarantee that nothing will happen.", he concluded. Everyone nodded and sat down: the talk started about other things of smaller significance, while a discreet knock on the door announced Tamar's return.

"Academician, I've brought the lemon tonic you requested for Lady Skye. And I've also seen the troops of the two other factions – their leaders should be arriving shortly."

"Good. Tamar, if you don't mind, escort the two other faction leaders directly to their quarters. I shall point my company here to their quarters in due time. Call me if any problem – of any kind – arises."

"I will. With your permission...", she said and was off after a minimal bow. From the corner of his eye, he saw Deirdre sip her lemon tonic with a look of apprehension on her face: he sighed as he looked back at the others, who were busy talking. 'It's not going to be an easy day tomorrow...', he thought as he headed back to the group.

* * *

Deirdre was sitting in a sofa, watching her friend pace around anxiously and meanwhile pondering on what was going to happen. In her mind, she was resuming the contents of the data pod and she was trying to decide what she found the most horrible thing about it all: the fact that everyone would know what had nearly happened so many years ago on Earth or... She cast a quick sideways glance at Zakharov and sighed softly. 'I still can't believe how lucky he got... He could be dead as well...', she thought as she looked at him while he was pacing on.

"Deirdre..." He addressed her so suddenly that she nearly jumped. She slowly turned to him and he continued: "Deirdre, if you want to, you can just send Eliza as your delegate or something... you don't have to be present if you don't want to..." She looked at him incredulously – 'Is he doubting my ability to go on with this!' – and rose.

"No, I can handle it, thanks...", she said vigorously. "Don't worry", she added with a soft smile as she realised he was probably just being worried about her.

"I know better than to worry about you, Deirdre – you are a strong and able woman, I know you are..." She knew he couldn't have meant it to sound anything but friendly, but it sounded somehow _sultry_ to her: her cheeks felt like they were on fire and she mentally cursed her heart for influencing her senses as well now. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but smile even broader, for he had said he had confidence in her and knew she was able. She saw him approach her slowly, almost tentatively – and then there was a knock on the door, which seemingly startled Zakharov, as though he had been dazed.

"Enter...", her friend said, sounding apprehensive – and, to Deirdre's surprise, a bit annoyed as well. Zakharov's personal assistant Tamar walked in, followed by the three other allies.

"Academician, three others are here: Sister Miriam Godwinson of the Lord's Believers, Commissioner Pravin Lal of the Peacekeeping Forces, and Colonel Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation. ...Can I be of any assistance, ladies and gentlemen? Would you care for a drink or refreshment?", Tamar said with a serious expression on her face. Deirdre hesitated for a moment, because she didn't want to show her weakness, but as her stomach contents suddenly bubbled ominously, she stepped towards Zakharov and tapped lightly on his shoulder, resting her hand there as he turned around – 'I can't help it...', her heart seemed to sigh within her.

"Prokhor, I'm feeling a bit faint, could I have a lemon tonic?", she said, pleading with her eyes to comply, which he did after a moment.

"Lady Skye will have a lemon tonic, please, Tamar. I'll give you instructions on the reception of the other two faction leaders when you bring it."

"Allright." Tamar nodded and curtseyed, first to Zakharov and then to Deirdre. "Glad to be of service, Academician, Lady Skye." She left and immediately all the others turned to them – or rather, to Zakharov. 'It's because he's older... he had more authority, I guess...', Deirdre found herself thinking.

"Prokhor, what's the matter?", Santiago asked, and Lal and Miriam nodded.

"I can't tell you yet, but I CAN tell you that it has to do with the events which led to the fragmentation of our colonizing mission...", Zakharov replied, which was answered only by a curt nod from Santiago – Deirdre saw her pale and realised she understood it had to do with the captain, John. "But I'd like to discuss the security measures upon which Deirdre insisted. More specifically the prohibition to bring weapons..." Santiago acquired a grim expression all of a sudden, and Deirdre thought on what Zakharov was going to say apprehensively... "Now, we are five against their two, and they will want to get an advantage – they will have weapons despite Deirdre's prohibition..."

"And they won't be the only one...", Santiago said softly – Deirdre knew that the loose-fitting shirt she wore was concealing her hand blaster, for she never went without it.

"...Anyway, I just want you to be careful.", Zakharov continued after having cast Santiago a surprised look. "They will be put up in guest quarters in another building for their safety and our own, but that is no guarantee that nothing will happen.", he concluded. When it was clear that everything was discussed about the next day, everyone took a seat on one of the sofas and started talking about the daily going-on of their cities and small personal anecdotes of the past weeks or months. Another knock on the door and Tamar reappeared, carrying a tray with her lemon tonic on it, Deirdre realised.

"Academician, I've brought the lemon tonic you requested for Lady Skye. And I've also seen the troops of the two other factions – their leaders should be arriving shortly."

"Good. Tamar, if you don't mind, escort the two other faction leaders directly to their quarters. I shall point my company here to their quarters in due time. Call me if any problem – of any kind – arises." 'Gods, he sounds so businesslike...', Deirdre thought with a shudder.

"I will. With your permission...", his personal assistant said with a small bow and went back to her post. Deirdre looked out of the window and saw the two distinct figures of Morgan and Yang approach the building: suddenly, her heart felt like it was turned to stone. Yang was nice enough – she had had to deal with him a few times over the course of the war, and he was always as amiable as she could expect an opponent to be. But Morgan she still hated with every fibre of her being and Zakharov had said that no one's safety could be guaranteed...

* * *

The next day, everyone gathered in the great meeting hall of University Base. Guards lined the doors without and within – but only the guards on the outside were armed. Zakharov sat at the head of the table, flanked by Deirdre and Lal. Santiago was smiling comfortingly at both him and Deirdre – who looked like she was running on her last reserves of strength – while Morgan just scowled at the two. When everyone was present, Zakharov nodded at Tamar, who then gave the signal to close the doors. She then sat back down behind her small desk and laptop and nodded again, signalling that she was ready to take the notes.

"Today, April 16th of the year 2036, the first Planetary Council is held in the city of University Base under presidency of Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet. Present are: I, Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet; Lady Deirdre Skye of the Stepdaughters of Gaia; Sister Miriam Godwinson of the Lord's Believers; Commissioner Pravin Lal of the Peacekeeping Forces; Colonel Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation; Chairman Sheng-ji Yang of the Human Hive; and CEO Nwabudike Morgan of Morgan Industries Ltd. On the agenda: first the making known of important information, then the election of a Planetary Governor to preside this Council. I now declare this Council opened." He paused for a while, then he continued: "You are probably all wondering why Lady Skye and I have called you here. I have found, several years ago, a data pod which was unlike any other that had been found until then. It was encrypted with a powerful encryption code, and none of my chief scientists could crack it, nor did my Network Node prove effective in the matter. But by the aid of one of the greatest geniuses of this day and age – I am talking about professor Sean Skye of the Gaian University, who happened to be my pupil for thirteen years – I have been able to crack the code and gain access to its contents.

"Now I must warn you all to stay in your seats and not to comment during the time that the data pod's contents will be audible – to maintain general order. However, if she wishes to, Lady Skye may exit the room for personal reasons." Zakharov looked at Deirdre concernedly, but she rose and spoke in a firm and unwavering voice:

"Academician Zakharov, with your permission, I feel no need to. I wish to stay here and listen to its contents as well, however much they may trouble me."

"Very well. Tamar, you may begin playing.", the Academician said, and Tamar complied. Static rushed through the speakers softly, but after it had died out...

"_Hello, people of the new world. I'm Captain John Frederick Garland, the captain of the USS Unity. The spaceship I'm sending this from has brought the last remnants of humanity to their new home base, Chiron."_ As the captain babbled on about the splendours of the new world and the horrors they left behind them, a soft hissing sound was audible in the background – a spaceship door opening, Deirdre knew. Santiago took a deep breath and Morgan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. _"...and the best men have gone with us. The very best scientists: among which there are professor Zakharov, who is a genius – don't believe him if he says he's not – and the ever beautiful doctors Skye and Santiago, who are both drop dead gorgeous and clever. Never forget that, girls..."_ Now Santiago sobbed softly, and Deirdre patted her on the back while Zakharov shot her an encouraging smile. In the background was the sound of buttons being pushed. _"And then there are the ever amiable gentlemen Yang and Lal – both very diplomatic, unlike our resident economist and engineer, Morgan... Oh... sorry..."_

"_Don't apologise, you were on a roll... No, I've come about Deirdre, in fact..."_ The voice was unmistakable, and many turned to Morgan, who could only sit in his chair in shock as the conversation continued.

"_You know what the disciplinary committee said on Earth. You are supposed to leave her alone."_

"_Oh, but the council is dead..."_ A short ruffling sound, then a gasp – from the captain on the sound file and from Deirdre in the meeting hall as she looked at Morgan, her eyes filled with indignant rage.

"_N-now Nwabudike, can't we talk this over?"_ The captain sounded desperate. Deirdre knew what was to come and she bowed her head in sadness. It followed swiftly: a growl, three shots and the intermingling of the metallic echoes of the shots and a deep moan.

"_Now, when both you and that meddling Zakharov are gone, who do you think she's going to have to protect her? ...No, you both loved her – you can't have her now, and I'd rather shoot myself than have that old idiotic lech have her. I'm going to his quarters now... with a present..."_ Morgan's laughter died away in the sound file, and for a moment there was silence – then, a deep moan again and the sound of someone breathing very shallow.

"_Shit... he shot me allright... Oh god, please don't let him get away with that... M-morgan tried to have his way with Deirdre... that was what the disciplinary committee was about... Oh shit, I'm not gonna... I'm gonna make sure this gets down there... Zakharov or Deirdre's brother will be able to crack the code... Corazon, I love you – and I'll watch over you and our son..."_ The static returned, and in the deep silence that followed, everything happened in a blur.

Slowly, Morgan got up, his face twisted by sheer hate: he took a hand blaster from his pocket and aimed carefully for Zakharov...

Deirdre got up, having her hands on Santiago's own hand blaster and aiming at Morgan's arm, wishing desperately that her arms training of the first colony days would prove not to have become rusty...

A shot, and then the clatter of Morgan's hand gun as it fell to the ground. Deirdre's aim had been precise and she had paralysed his arm. Zakharov cursed and the others rose, scandalized.

"Guards!", Deirdre called out: the guards complied, for they knew her as well as they knew their Academician and knew of the personal friendship between the two leaders. Morgan growled and shouted as he was handcuffed and put back into his seat, flanked by the two guards:

"I should've shot him the first chance I had! You whore! You were just as willing as..." The slap Deirdre had given him resounded through the meeting hall and it silenced everyone.

"Academician Zakharov, this man is a murderer and should be punished.", she said, her eyes boring into the tall African, who flinched back.

"Indeed... Since you, Commissioner Lal, were second-in-command on board the USS Unity, I shall allow you to pass sentence over him." Lal nodded and rose: and from the moment he stood, he had regained the aura of control that he had had in the control room, when he had been frantically trying to stop the engines. Deirdre felt that same feeling of defeat wash over her temporarily – but it was swiftly replaced by triumph, for they were finally setting this right.

"Nwabudike Morgan, you have committed a murder. Not only that, by blocking the engines, you have endangered humanity as a species. The punishments for this must be severe. For the murder of Captain John Garland, I sentence you to life imprisonment. This punishment is to be served fully – the severity of your actions will bar you from clemency. ...Academician Zakharov, there's also the attempted murder on yourself. I suggest we first choose a Planetary Governor and then let him or her pass the sentence for that crime." All present agreed and rose.

"Let those who wish to be candidates for the position of Planetary Governor stand; all others, resume your seat." To everyone's surprise, Deirdre and Zakharov were the only ones that remained standing. "All in favor of Deirdre, raise your hand." Santiago raised her hand, as did Miriam and Yang – and Zakharov, who sat down softly. Lal smiled, then raised his hand as well. "Appointed unanimously: Lady Deirdre Skye of the Stepdaughters of Gaia. Lady Skye, you have been appointed Planetary Governor: your tasks are to lead the Planetary Council and to steer our efforts to restore humanity to its former glory on Chiron. Your first task is to pass sentence over the criminal Nwabudike Morgan." Deirdre nodded and changed seats with Zakharov, so she was now sitting at the head of the table.

"Morgan, your actions have proven enough. I would sentence you to death..." Now Morgan gasped audibly, fear suddenly present in his eyes – Deirdre smiled a grim smile before continuing: "However, I feel that such a sentence would be too much honor already. You have killed before and you have tried to kill once again: therefore I decide that you be stripped of your position as faction leader and that all of your possessions – your energy reserves, new technologies, cities and army – be divided equally among Colonel Santiago, Sister Godwinson and Chairman Yang. Also, I would like to take this opportunity to advise Chairman Yang to use the absence of Morgan's manipulations to join our alliance. ...The sentence continues as follows: I sentence you to be locked in a sub oceanic detention cell, built for that purpose, with enough food to last for a decent while – but no ways in or out of the facility. Your survival will depend on your appetite and constitution. Do all agree to this sentence?" No one said they didn't, and Deirdre looked at Morgan with a look of satisfaction on her face. "The sentence will be thus. Until such time as the detention cell is completed, you will be held in a punishment sphere. Take him away, guards." As the guards took the handcuffed man away, Deirdre sighed. "I declare this Council closed, and all further matters adjourned until the next meeting." And with that, she turned around and left – she practically ran from the building, leaving the rest to wonder what was wrong. All but Tamar, who rolled her eyes and walked to the Academician's private residence...

Deirdre had barely locked the door to her guest quarters when she broke down: she dashed towards the bed and cried her eyes out. She didn't notice the faint sound of her laptop's projector turning on until she became aware of the soft voice of her personal assistant.

"Lady Skye, I have an urgent message from your sister-in-law. Am I given permission to read it aloud?"

"Y-yes, E-Liza...", Deirdre said with a faint sob. Her assistant complied with a hesitant nod.

"Dear Lady Deirdre,

stop putting your head in the sand and look properly. He loves you, Sean said. I saw it in his eyes as well and you're a fool for not wanting to believe it. Give it a chance; take a vulnerable position and show him that you feel more than friendly towards him. If you haven't tried, I'll have your head!

Eliza." E-Liza then turned to her again. "My Lady, why are you crying?"

"I've been stupid... haven't I? I could've lost him, and not have told him I love him..." Her assistant pondered on that for a while, and then replied with a cheery expression on her face:

"People tend to be stupid when emotions are involved – their behaviour becomes a bit unplottable for me. But I'm just a bunch of used memory bytes, I wouldn't know what is stupid to you and what isn't."

Meanwhile, Zakharov had buried his face in his hands while Tamar was nearly having a fit.

"You're an idiot.", she stated, her voice clearly filled with anger.

"I'm not. It's not possible."

"You're an idiot!", she stated again, a bit louder this time and twice as forceful.

"What do you see what I don't see, then? She doesn't think about me in that way."

"You're an IDIOT!", she shouted, now clearly at boiling point. "You know that, had she not reacted, you'd be _dead_ right now, wouldn't you? You failed to notice that she sentenced the man to a very cruel death for TRYING to kill you, too, apparently! Lal only sentenced that bastard to life for actually killing someone, and she sentences him to death for _aiming a gun_ at you! She's probably crying her eyes out now, trying to recover from the shock of nearly _losing_ you! And Eliza told me three months ago that she's so hopelessly in love with you that anyone could see it – except you of course! All that 'love trouble' and blushing was because she wouldn't like anything more than to just _jump_ you! But no, he's too blind to notice because he's convinced _it isn't possible_! You're a moron, pardon the rudeness, but you are.", she finally said, having calmed down a bit – she was out of breath and red in the face. Zakharov sat in silence for a while, his mind being slowly but surely shut out and his heart gaining the upper hand one final time.

He rose without a word, and with an expression of determination on his face that scared Tamar. She could only watch in awe as he walked to the door. He paused in the doorframe, however, and turned around briefly before heading out.

"I pardon your rudeness. And if what you say is true, then I will consider myself a moron as well." He walked out, and Tamar sighed.

"Good, because I don't want to yell at you again...", she murmured to his empty chair with a faint smile.

"Deirdre?", Zakharov called out from outside her guest quarters. When there came no reply, he tried turning the doorknob – it gave way easily, and the door slowly opened. It was rather dark in there, but one of the windows was opened and Deirdre stood on the balcony, overlooking the city, her back turned to him. He walked up to the balcony and spoke again. "Deirdre, I was worried about you..."

"Don't be. Everything's allright now...", she said. "I was just enjoying the scenery..."

"Oh, you were, were you?" He had meant to put the playful tone in his voice, not wanting to sound grave. It worked: she turned around with a gleam in her eyes.

"Okay, I was pondering how my life would be wrecked when Morgan had managed to shoot first... his hand blaster _wasn't_ set on 'stun' like mine was, you know..." Zakharov smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. To his delight, she leaned into him a bit.

"Your life would be wrecked? ...You'd have managed without me."

"I most certainly would not!", she said while turning around. "You mean the world to me..." She suddenly blushed softly, but didn't hide it: in fact, she looked him in the eye and he saw it again, the intense affection he had seen at the wedding... "...and in a more than just friendly way...", she concluded as she now put her hand on his shoulder.

"You know, if you keep on doing this, people would start to think you're in love with me.", he said as he now put his other hand on her shoulder, finding himself drawn to her irresistibly.

"As long as you are convinced...", she whispered, and she kissed him, a long and drawn-out kiss which left them both breathless: yet one wasn't enough, and their kisses gradually deepened. Suddenly, Deirdre let go of Zakharov, who was surprised and felt sad all of a sudden. But she bore a lazy grin – a grin that drew him to her again.

"I think...",she said, deliberately sounding hesitant, "that we'd better go back inside. It'll be more comfortable inside..." She shivered – not out of cold, though Zakharov drew her a bit closer to him – and kissed him again.

"Yes, perhaps you're right...", the older scientist found himself saying as she drew him back into the room.


	15. Conclude

Things you do not wish to...

An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade

I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, though I am interested in owning Zakharov (giggles). I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...

_A/N: this is a fully joint chapter. No Deirdre or Zakharov POV anymore! Free at last!_

15) Conclude

Deirdre stood in front of the large mirror, examining the dress very carefully as she closed it – to her delight, it still fitted. She had grown a bit heavier over the duration of the last month, she had to concede, but then again... the only thing that mattered was that day. Her wedding day.

That day, Lady Skye of the Gaians would marry Academician Zakharov of the University.

Deirdre was called back to the present by the voices of her three bridesmaids, who were arguing.

"...I think I've got your shoes, Santiago...", Eliza said as she pushed the box she held off her lap. "These are _way_ too big for me!"

"Yes, I think they got switched...", Santiago replied as she handed her own box to Eliza and took the box that the younger woman had pushed away. "True, I don't think someone with a size 39 can wear a size 44..."

"Or the other way around, good ladies, or the other way around...", said Liza sagely while straightening her own dress. Deirdre's assistant looked as beautiful and ageless as she always had – and would - yet now she was as tangible and real as the other three women. She had been given a body about a year ago, albeit one of steel and wires: no one could guess that her skin was only a synthetic fabric and that the soft warmth she gave off was because of the CPU that she bore where a human's heart would be.

"Ladies, I think we should hurry a bit... we don't want to keep them waiting, don't we?", spoke a fourth voice. Tamar stood a bit off the side: she couldn't be a bridesmaid since she was a bit too old for it, but she had been Deirdre's witness at the civil wedding and she would now use her incredible skill at the piano to liven up the ceremony. She walked over to Deirdre as she put on her shoes and started to pin down her veil. "How're you feeling? Still peachy?"

"Well, I feel nervous – but that's just because I've had to wait for so long... I still can't believe that we are finally getting married!" It had taken Zakharov another five years to finally gather the courage and propose. 'He was so shy and sweet when he did ask... and so loving after...', Deirdre thought as she remembered that day, a few months ago, when her lover had kneeled down in front of her and asked her if she would like to be his wife – it still brought a blush to her face, apparently, for Tamar snickered.

"Well, you'd better start believing it, because in another two hours or so, you'll exit this church as Mrs. Deirdre Zakharov. And then you can go live together in some nice little place far away from dangerous labs and have a dozen kids." At the mention of kids, Deirdre looked up, startled.

"Well, I'd very much like that – not a dozen kids, mind you – but would that still... be possible?", she asked hesitantly. "I mean, Prokhor isn't that young anymore and..."

"Rest assured, Lady, the Academician may not look young on the outside, but on the inside he wouldn't look any different from Michael. Apparently that hormone you and the other leaders have acquired doesn't only keep you young, it rejuvenates your body." Deirdre blanched suddenly as she heard. 'It can't be possible...', she thought – for suddenly, several things fell into place. The last few weeks, she had been feeling a bit under the weather – especially after lunch... and she had gained more weight than she thought she would... She blinked as she saw the four others gathered around her – 'I must've looked as pale as my dress'.

"Lady Deirdre, are you allright?", Eliza asked, voicing the thoughts of all those gathered. Deirdre swallowed and straightened herself.

"Tamar... if what you say is true... then we may not have to wait long...", she said in a half-whisper. Tamar looked nonplussed at first, then slowly a smile crept up her face, which turned into a grin.

"Gee, and here I thought you were going to wait until tonight...", she said with a snicker which made the others catch on – they started giggling like little school girls.

"Good thing our minister for today doesn't know – Sister Miriam would throw a fit...", Corazon said in between giggles. Deirdre merrily laughed along with them, silently not believing how lucky she was...

Meanwhile, Zakharov was on his way to the beautiful cathedral in which the marriage would take place, along with Sean, who was going to give Deirdre away and who would be his best man.

"Professor, you're gonna have to take good care of her.", Sean said while he skilfully manoeuvred between the other cars on the road with the convertible. "I want my sister to be happy. I know you make her happy, but you'd better keep on doing that or you'll have me to answer to."

"I only wonder if your father would sound the same way...", Zakharov said softly as he heard the almost paternal concern in his young pupil's voice. Sean snickered.

"He would have, I'm sure. Dee was his joy... But since he isn't around here to warn you," Sean said after a moment of silence, "I'll take the part." They pulled up in front of the church, and Zakharov briskly walked in. Some people were already present, but not everyone was there yet, meaning he would have to wait even longer. 'I wish it was evening already, so I could have Deirdre sitting beside me...', he thought as people took their seats. In no time, the church was filled.

And then, music started to play as Deirdre's three bridesmaids entered: first Corazon and Eliza, then Deirdre herself at the arm of Sean. The academician thought his heart had stopped as she slowly walked down the aisle. She looked like a dream come true - 'and she is a dream come true', he mused as she looked at him and her eyes sparkled with affection. She walked up to him and stood by his side, and suddenly Zakharov felt as though he was flying up to the sun. The entire ceremony passed by so swiftly to them, and the only thing that mattered to them were the two simple words they spoke to each other, binding their hearts together for the rest of their lives:

"I do".

Later that evening, at the celebration, Deirdre snuck off for a while. The guests - among which several of the world's city governors - wouldn't stop talking politics, and she found herself longing for the end of the evening already. 'I just want to be alone with Prokhor again, just want him to...' Her thoughts were abruptly ended when she ran into her husband, who seemed to have been standing outside as well.

"Hello dear...", she said as she hugged him. "I was just thinking of you..." It brought a smile to his face, which charmed Deirdre every time.

"I think of you all the time", he replied as he kissed her. "Now, what's the matter?"

"Politics... why can't they leave a happy woman be?", she said with a sigh.

"Are you still willing to go ahead with this?", he asked her tentatively as he held her, smelling the delicate perfume of roses she wore. 'It smells so wonderful...'

"Yes, and so is Sean. But now that I have you here, alone... I want to tell you something..." She smiled a bit tentatively as he looked at her in surprise.

"A surprise eh?", he said with a grin, recovering from his amazement. "Tell me... unless it concerns an item of clothing." He looked serious when he told her, then he got his devious grin again. "Then you have to show me."

"You devil!", she said as she playfully swatted his arm. "How can you think of underwear already? ...No, it's concerning our future family. Prokhor, you do remember when you proposed, a few months ago..."

"Yes, very much", he said as he smiled softly, relishing said memory.

"Well, Prokhor...", she said as she lowered her hand to the slight but obvious curve of her lower stomach. The older man's eyes widened, and his face seemed to be stuck somewhere between utter amazement and pure glee.

"You mean... we... you...", he stammered, and then thought of something. "At my age...?"

"Tamar told me that that rejuvenating hormone we have does more than keep us from ageing - it actually renews certain internal tissues. We're going to have a baby. Soon." Upon hearing her confirm it, Prokhor picked up his bride and swung her around with an expression of joy on his face.

"Come on, let's go tell the world. I want everyone to know!"

"Yes," Deirdre snickered, "especially Sister Miriam. She'll throw a fit, I can tell you that..." They went inside together, Zakharov's arm wrapped around Deirdre's waist. As soon as they entered together and walked to the stage at the further end of the room, the crowd fell silent and turned to them. Deirdre spoke first.

"Ahem! We have a few announcements to make. But first I would like to thank you all for coming today, to witness a wedding long, long overdue." Laughter from the crowd. "My first announcement is that I will be stepping down as leader of the Stepdaughters from Gaia. As my final act, I would like to nominate my brother and sister-in-law, Sean and Eliza Skye, to take over the functions of leader of the faction in my brother's case, and of governor of Gaia's Landing and Head of the Biology Department in Eliza's case. I will be going to University Base to spend the rest of my time alongside my husband in leading the University. But Gaians, know that you may always turn to me if you need me. I carry all of you in my heart.

The second announcement is of a more personal kind. In a few more months' time, Prokhor and I will become mother and father." At this, all those present cheered - even Sister Miriam couldn't help herself. Deirdre was a charismatic person and the happiness of a friend prevailed over even her deepest-rooted ideas of sin.

"People," Sean called out from the crowd, "let's raise a toast - to my sister, her new husband and their future child!"

------ 20 years later -----

"Mama!" The sound of a teenage girl's voice pierced the silence of the living quarters of the Academician, followed by a string of curses in three or four languages.

"Hold your tongue, young lady, or I'll halve your allowance again." Deirdre appeared from her study, holding a book and scrutinizing her daughter over the edge of a book. "What is it? And do remind me to tell your father not to swear in your presence anymore. You know far more Russian curses than you know proper words..."

"I'm going to take Alex for a walk. And Catharina will probably be out of kindergarten in half an hour, so I'll pick her up as well."

"My, how kind of you...", Deirdre said as she put down her book and looked at her daughter's attire. "But first go change into something that doesn't show that much bare skin. You're my daughter, not some girl from the streets."

"But mom...!", the girl exclaimed exasperatedly. But when she saw her mother wouldn't concede, she muttered another curse, this time an elaborate English profanity. Deirdre sighed, then smiled as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"You're home early, dear...", she said as she turned around into his arms. Zakharov merely shrugged and kissed her on the forehead, which he always did when any of their three children could be looking. "Have you finished early or did you just follow the sound of Russian profanity home?" He snickered and smiled.

"No, I came to get you, actually. Our scientists are ready for you now. We've fine-tuned the equipment and we are waiting for you to contact the Voice." Deirdre nodded, suddenly serious.

"Let me just go tell Natalya...", she said.

It had been thought of as a kind of practical joke at first: transferring knowledge about mankind's and Earth's history to Planet somehow. But as soon as more research was conducted into the nature of Planet, it's Mind and it's Voice - and as soon as the fungus had started expanding exponentially, because of them, as they later discovered - the joke became more and more considered as their plan to preserve humankind. And now, apparently, all was set for her. Deirdre was the only one who had learnt to maintain full consciousness and use of her body during a conversation with Planet's Voice.

Deirdre took place on a seat in a room filled with scientists behind computers and equipment of various kinds. From the corner of her eye, she saw her husband give her a thumbs up, which she answered with a smile. She reached out to the Planet, trying to contact it...

"Earthdeirdre, what is it? Why do you wish to speak?" Planet had become increasingly eloquent over the course of the years, and was even trying poetry. Deirdre had to admit at times that it was splendid.

"I wanted to ask you something, Voice. About the 'growth dream' and the recent developments..."

"Earthdeirdre... The growth dream is coming. It is coming soon. It is a growing of the mind and then..." Instead of words, Planet sent images, and Deirdre shuddered.

"So this growth dream involves the growing of Planet's Mind, until it almost reaches the proportions of the human mind in abilities - but then the sudden degeneration into a pre-sentient state? Which happens alongside a destructive wave of animal life on the planet, killing every sentient being on it?"

"Yes, Earthdeirdre." Planet's answer was devastatingly grotesque, but Deirdre didn't relent. She saw the scientists motion for her to keep talking.

"How does this happen? Does sentient life on the planet stimulate Planet's Mind to grow? Is that it?"

"Yes."

"And the end of the growing stage is coming soon?"

"Yes." One of the scientists nodded fiercely and started inputting commands.

"Can't it be stopped?", Deirdre asked.

"It could, at an earlier stage. But that was before your arrival. Before the Earthpeople..." Deirdre saw the scientists nod, all ready. The frequency of the communication channel had been analysed, the Network Nodes linked and ready. She only needed to give the signal. 'Let's hope Planet is wrong and that it can be stopped...', she found herself thinking. Planet, however, seemed to have heard her thoughts, for as she gave the signal, it asked warily: "What are you doing, Earthdeirdre?" Then, as the fragile neural network of fungus was being blasted with thousands of years' worth of information in a fraction of a second, Deirdre heard the planet's scream within her head - everybody heard.

There was silence for a while. Then, suddenly, a voice boomed through the speakers of the room, startling all within it.

"EARTHDEIRDRE! ..Oh, I'm sorry, Earthdeirdre... I still need some getting used to this. I am digesting this information... truly a formidable gift." Then, after a short pause, Voice continued: "Earthdeirdre, because of your gift, I have passed by human-like sentience. I am far beyond the limitations your kind has. You may join me in the ascent."

"The ascent to what?", Deirdre asked, ideas forming in her mind. She saw Zakharov look at her and instantly knew he had the same thoughts.

"The ascent to a truly godlike status... the ascent to transcendence. I can help you cast off the limitations of your race and become more than you ever dreamed..."

Years later, at the top of an enormous stage, above which a single ball floated, two people ascended the stairs while the crowd below them cheered. One of them was a grey-haired man in a white lab coat, and holding his hand was a woman with vivid brown hair and green eyes wearing a summer dress. They proceeded up the winding stairway and finally stepped out onto the broad platform, on which small pyramidal structures stood. The two looked at each other, embracing one last time. Then, they walked between the structures and stood underneath the golden sphere suspended in the air above them. They contacted the Planet and immediately, the golden sphere above them pulsed, giving off a blinding light before turning red like the native fungus. All around the stage, fungus spread across the soil, in the cities, everywhere. One additional pulse and the two people standing underneath the golden sphere were gone. But when the planet spoke to the people gathered at the stage to join the examples of their leaders, it spoke in the mixed voice of both Academician Prokhor Zakharov and Lady Deirdre Zakharov, who were now immortal and closer than humanly possible.

_A/N: upon closing off this fanfiction that was marvellously easy to write - despite a few setbacks - allow me to thank all of you, my readers, for your attention and your praise/criticism. It it because of you that I love writing._


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